---

George Lewis Avery

---

poetry is dead
and

i cain't get no stimuli
the odysseus one
has done
gouged out me eye

so i bleed
pathos
and god knows
i need

ice cream
candy bars
and silver stars
and i scream

i might as well be a crimsoned leaf
fluttering to the forest floor
for for all my sound
the world is deaf

i'll get your attention
in one way
or another say
did i mention

i own sharp sticks
and stones and
make you no bones
i own some tricks

i will masticate your feelings
poke ridicule belittle
i will sit down with my knife and whittle
untill all that is left is peelings

i will gather what you abhor
to substitute in my sling for a rock
and with each recurring shock
you'll notice me the more

i bleed pathos
only when all else fails
meanwhile my ego it yells
'anything goes'

lest ye forget
it is always about me
the mere mind is my tool
and he is an imbecile
who disagrees

still i must not let on
i will take it to my grave
that one thing that i crave
is not so much recognition
as interraction

.oeg ©