Opening the newest poetry anthology <br />Upon my eyes lie there <br />A steaming pile of poetry <br />Uttered through self-important pens <br />And pretentious glances <br />The remains jackals <br />Wouldn't dare feast upon. <br /> <br />And there we are <br />Left with nothing <br />Found with nothing <br />And nothing to say. <br /> <br />In a self-consuming <br />World of woe <br />I have become <br />King of the Beggars. <br /> <br />In opening that book <br />I found in the table of contents <br />My own name, <br />And realized <br />I sat comfortably <br />Amongst the best of them. <br />'Better <br />Best <br />Bested.'<br /><br />Denis Kucharski<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-big-steaming-pile-of-poetry/
