OOPS.

You guys, last month was not in fact Poetry month and I so apologize. June is Poetry month and I don't know why I thought it was May. So, I've missed five days and will make up with a few double postings along the way. But till then here's a poem by the the poet laureate of Chicago. I'm not sure how to spell it and wiki doesn't even bother with an entry but his name sounds like Klingor Johston.


The manufacturer

Again all things
seem profound
and I’m leap of faith
bound
Till then, I’m the one
You’ll see
splattered
on the ground


Splattered on the ground
I’ll tell you what I’ve learned
If you don’t expcct me to include some warnings
You’ll get burned

I’ll tell you
Sisyphus was no myth
Icarus no tall tale
Play around with what Prometheus
Gave you but
Expect to
call me from jail

Cat’s have nine
I’ve had more
Not bragging
I’ve seriously had like 54

Expeditions filled with crevices of misunderstanding
You’ll worse than skin your knee

But if you plan to still go up
My advice – my plea
Do so
expeditiously

Reach the top
Sure
Scale the highest peak
Right
Or just cut your losses
And hop a
flight


You'll burn your hand
Can’t reach the heights
Don’t know the rules
Need better tools?


Don’t look at me.

I just manufacture
Poet-tree.


Me?

An artist who can’t draw the right
Conclusions
A poet
Who gets bit
By the bee in
Her cliché
Bonnet
And fails
To complete her sonnet
In time
And also doesn’t always rhyme
A composer left dead in the sun
Gets decomposed
A writer who loses his pen
While running out
Of ink
A philosopher
Whose forgotten how to think

Would you like anything to drink?

I aim most intensely
to be
the hostess
with the mostess.