A Historic Presidency
A poem doesn’t have to rhyme
Or march to beats and meters.
No doubt about it.
A poem can, of course, straggle about for a time;
Its discordant noises refusing to harmonize or chime;
Its arbitrary lineation obscuring precisely those things it values most,
Until lost for some way to conclude
Its strutting, fretting interlude,
It gives up the ghost
And out it
Michael Murry, "The Misfortune Teller," Copyright © 2012