Whoever first supposed
That novels were unapproachable
Had not educated themselves properly
On the nature of poetry.
Where are the characters?
English major infidels! You’ve destroyed
Proper English and Grammar.
I blame e.e. cummings the most.
And do I really have to write
In this strange, block-like “stanza” format?
In these irritating half-sentences?
Poke-
poke-
poke,
Like that?
(They tell me I don’t, but I don’t know how else to do it.)

It’s too short already.
Homer was onto something
When he stretched his scrolls
From Rome down to Morocco.
Though maybe a common ground
Can be found somewhere between us.
Maybe the writers, all together,
Dream of the only thing that perishes death:

“I will be immortalized by these truths,
The words that I have written.”