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the end of poetry

the end of poetry

it was a great run
these letters
words
not sentences
all arranged to make sounds
in your mind

when the last poetry shop closed
i was saddened beyond comprehension
less for me
more for the kids
who cannot know the value
of the letter “i”
the passion of the unpunctuated line break
the drift of language and sound
blending together
into something
irrelevant
yet irreplaceable

if the poet has been hung out to dry
and all we have left is tiktok dances
and viral videos of jackass stunts
i think i’ll call it a night
either i’m poet laureate by summer
or i’m gone
ffs

i
not at a loss for words
but
sounds no longer
have a place to vibrate
with an appreciative audience
a pause
whisper
snort and chuckle
sweet prince
dead
done
da da

11/18/22

i am the poet of desire by john oakley mcelhenney

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