Only an idiot ignores poetry.

Fears it, claims old men speak it
afraid of the end.

A stopwatch heart beats
heroically
for more war,

a mechanism in a world
of perfunctory unicycles.

Ignore my verse, hold my sorrow.

Like the day God appeared briefly
when love died
universally.

My mother Mary
wiping my red tears

On pages of stimataed missilettes.