There’s No Time for Poets

There’s no time for poets farting in stuffy auditorium chairs
spittling tirades in Masonic Hall microphones;
there’s no time for hipsters with empty moleskin notebooks,
believing they have an edge on the corner of the world.

There’s no time for prayers from bathrobed politicians,
or fat file clerks belching hate in the name of love;
there’s no time for mimes mouthing pantomime on street corners
believing they alone hold the mirrors of the shadowy world.

There’s no time for poets with writing degrees
hiding behind words actions they refuse to behold;
there’s no time for marbled gods deaf to dumb prayers
believing time will soon come for his flag to unfurl.

Believing time will come soon for the film to unreel…

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