Platinum lads and girls all must
As one-hit-wonders come to dust.
A consolation—isn’t it?—
To those who never had a hit.
So much of the time
Modern poetry seems the work of very organized crime:
A professional job
Pulled off by the Mob.
I mean, add an “I” and an “A”
Is it obvious enough?
The aesthetic MAFIA. They’re tough, baby. Tough.
John Harris lives in Savannah, Georgia. Poems of his have appeared in Rattle, Nimrod, and other publications. He’s working on a book of poems.