Poem: Yes, I Have

Yes, I have read your verse.
To read a line
is to be beaten
by barbarian females
with dead fish:
there is potential—
there is also something wrong.

back on Planet Pleasure,
readers of my verse
report a delight
so profound it
births adulatory modifiers,
laws of physics.

A swami,
long adept at his discipline,
read my verse
and, freed from the fetters
of birth and death,
went “Poof.”

A scuba diver
read a fine poem of mine
before a long dive.
Only upon surfacing
did she realize
she had forgotten
a tank of oxygen.

There are those for whom
the violence of
unlettered women wielding fish
is a pleasure—
they are foul-smelling freaks.

Here is my suggestion:
do something else
with what finite allowance is yours.

There are always the sciences,
the odorless transactions of business,
the husbandry of dumb beasts.


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