The whole movement, the whole project
blackened naysayer nauseating tense
the past now hurling present to the passed;
hurling sporadic saccharine
asymmetrical callous blasting fallacy,
phallic mastery and penned history;
the hysterical secret misery now washed,
travelled back into accidental disaster.
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Showing posts with label Cycle 23. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cycle 23. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Poem-A-Day: Day 551
Cycle 23
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