If all the poets won’t write their words on the bathroom walls

So all the world can read,

I will.

If all the poets in Danbury wont

Write for the poor

Who can’t afford

The high class poetry.

I will.

If all the poets refuse to rhyme

And only write

To satisfy time

And never say what’s really 

On their mind,

Then I will.

If all the poets choose, politically, 

To rant of something so very today,

To brand a slogan

So their pals can say,

“Good job!”

And call it poetry,

Then I will stand with Isso and say,

“Writing shit about new snow

For the rich

Is not art,”

And it’s not poetry either.

If all the poets refuse to rhyme

And only write

To satisfy time

And never say what’s really 

On their minds,

Then I will.

Poetry is holy verse

From a land called The Living,

And gets thru to us

Here in Deadville.

It’s cuts a broad swath

Of Liberty

And sets us free from the jargon of the hour

In which we exist,

And all the do’s of it,

And all the don’t’s.

But if all the “poets” from Leadville won’t,

I will.

-jenn