Good poets enjoy the company of their best friends.
And bad poets enjoy the inferiority of any friends.
This poem demonstrates itself like exuding wind in a closed space.
Clearly you're speaking from vast experience. Tell me, do you pick your feet in Capixie? ...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very incisive, concise poem Shaun...you are so right.! When I used to perform in the North East about a decade ago, there were many bad performance poets who wouldn't recognise the merits of any one else's work if it clashed with their petty triball agendas...I'm so pleased I no longer associate with them anymore. Anyway, it's another 10 from me!