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Unvarnished reaction to rather rococo to lush outpourings on another poetry site. So many sprites and cherubs and lightweight twinkie critters that I keep stepping in pixie shit. Maybe I am wrong about poetry: is it supposed to be this overly smushy and "magical" stuff? Nothing like that comes out of me. Mine is a more spare and blunt. Oh, well.


Gnome3by Annette Lee28 Feb 2014

muse, schmooze
say i.
no perfumed wispy creature
of lurid fantasy
twinkles inspiration into me.
it is the grit, the blackness,
the stinking rotten remains
that regret strews in its path,
the sad wrinkled mildewed pages
that doubt has hidden
for years
in dark places.
no zephyrs,
no lavender butterflies,
no babbling brooks.
just the tired and arid landscape
where i continue to struggle and
to coax fragile sprouts
to rise through the cruel earth.