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Today's poem is by J. P. Dancing Bear

Iago, the Poet

First, let me say it is sickening, this syrupy public
adoration for being homespun and common
tongued, master of the art. I tire of his shotgunning metaphors
to stuff and mount on his study wall.
Last night I convinced a group of drunken bards to burn a pile
of his essays and his effigy while slamming down more beer
and shouting, Youíre not our leader! Today I made the surrealists
believe he would come after them next and they should join
the language poets and attack first. Iíve tricked his confidants
into thinking heís used them. I have convinced his fans
heís insincere, a stage-clambering phony who borrows
ideas, has roots in the greeting card business. But my best
yet was swaying him to see his great love as a cheap
whore for hacks, charlatans and poseurs; and ruin his own career.



Copyright © 2005 J. P. Dancing Bear All rights reserved
from In a Fine Frenzy - edited by David Starkey and Paul J. Willis
University of Iowa Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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