Journalese Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is doubt
is this work worth the effort?

he has no time
you see, to read the details

put it there
let it rot there

some molds start to grow
on every heading of poetry

or if it were wine
something keeps on fermenting

you wait for more time
something in there keeps bubbling

you hear the sound
of this beautiful disturbance

there is the hissing sound of the snake
and be careful

it poses and so alive
it is now ready to bite