Cara Valle

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The Poet’s Lament

Every poet’s now a poet’s poet,
and poems are things that only poets write.
We poets may not like this, but we know it.

The world of verse is derelict, although it
keeps on the bleeding edge of its own plight.
Every poet’s now a poet’s poet.

Poetry’s so extraneous, we throw it
a month-long fling, then shoo it out of sight.
We poets may deny this, but we know it.

So we patch up our leaky boat and row it.
From the ascetic to the sybarite,
every poet’s now a poet’s poet.

Our cultural quilt has grown too sere to sew it.
Half our kids may never learn to write.
We poets may deplore this, but we know it.

Whether a friendly fiscal parasite,
a zealous or an unwilling Eremite,
every poet’s now a poet’s poet.
We poets hate this, but boy, do we know it.

Cara Valle’s poems have appeared in The Rotary Dial, Mezzo Cammin, The Lyric, The Grub Street Grackle, Literary Mama, and Epiphany. She teaches high school literature and poetry while homeschooling her three children in Ann Arbor, Michigan.