When Confronted By A Lousy Poem Poem by RIC BASTASA

after reading another
lousy poem
(i guess it could be like
mine, in the strict sense
of your standard
master academic
poet, multi awarded
poetess)
i decided to pause
for a while,
reflect, meditate,
cogitate,
blink, wink,
t h i n k t h i n k
give the writer the benefit of the doubt
due to his feelings
he must have these
within him/her
asking myself what prompts
him to write

i think it is not for fame,
for he will never have, he knows it
the world is filled already with a million famous men
and women
and there is no place anymore for one
like him
(or me, i know, don't bluff me
i know, don't ask me)

i think it is because he is like a snake
(Nothing bad about snakes
nothing metaphorically treacherous)
bitten by another snake, bleeding
and sliding his way in the sands of the
desert
looking for an oasis
a date palm
a branch of an olive tree
(is there an olive tree in the desert?
i have not gone there anyway
yet)

looking for a cure.
i then make a conclusion,
he deserves to be commended
for this bravery
of writing about
pain
at least writing about it
since he still does not know
of any cure
for pain, or if there is
i know, he knows, it is only
temporary

like the pain in our
hearts

(or asses if you will)