Did the raven flock
A faraway dark forest
Envious silence

she has a really flat face like someone kicked a soccer ball into it so he’d call her Soccerball Face
and so
he’d come over to my house
and draw pictures of her and just leave them around
and write poems
he’d just write over and over
“LOVE CAN BE PAINFUL.”

The slow decline in poets and novelists
over centuries
"it's not a profitable profession",
the media sighs

as if
pressing your products against
the fresh face of youth
is a morally just career

writing a haiku
left hand counts the limiting
cruel syllables

without a window
a lonely poet is just
a lonely poet