Re Verse Artifice Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

To poor prose some add verse ed strain,
bad stress completes their air,
but vain attempts too often pain,
confess stress messes there.

Where artifice enshrines free rants
ambiguous false praises
soon home to roost, no heirophant
their content paraphrases.

Harsh discords mock unmetered toil,
all editors efface them,
as blanker lines from blank uncoil
they roil, what fool would face them.

Forsake bit part art fruitless, take
note what's rote wrote's great grate mistake.

(21 March 2012)