Self-Promotion
I slipped a copy of my self-published collection
Into the longed-for shelf
Of the Poetry Library.
Finally, I had overcome the rejection,
To stand alongside some
Of my heroes, my tribe, my key.
Oh sure, one day a snooty librarian
Will pluck-up my root
And toss it away –
But until then, let it be egalitarian
Where a browser can see
What it has to say.
And it isn’t only my guerrilla slim volumes
That compete with the filler
Of our daily round –
I’ve also prepared some placards à la plume
To cover-up the Bards
On the Underground.
But my best reach for well-placed words, I think
Is not to just paste
My flyers on a fence –
But when I fill all the walls with my ink
In the lonely stalls
Of convince.
Rhyming Couplets 