let me warn you…

                             …about this poem
this poem is loaded, minted, filthy rich
money squirrelled under offshore mattresses
coming out of its accountants’ ears
Croesus in a sharp suit and a car
no surprise
if it’s a touch full of itself
a wee bit cocky
got arrogance to burn
best thing since sliced bread
since before sliced bread
since sliced bread was a twinkle
in its daddy’s etc.
and it’s full of it
the same old schtick
the ‘man of the people’ bullshit
just a regular kind of guy
kind of a poem
that’s what it’d have you
it’s not a poem like other poems
so make some allowances
cut it some slack
and when one day
this poem hits someone
professors of english literature
will line up round the block
to justify it
explain the role of the right hook
in 21st c verse
and the bardic tradition
while the poem smiles
a neat white smile
of sharp perfect teeth
cold eyes and calculation
and some mother’s son
lies bleeding and forgotten
on the floor
let me warn you about this poem.

©Steve Pottinger. 30 March 2015

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