! Poet Takes Count In Last Round - Poem by Michael Shepherd
Sometimes the last line
comes out of the blue -
one to the solar plexus,
you never saw them coming;
you don't remember after that..
you're flat on the canvas,
knowing you've been put in place;
'Poet loses title-fight,
clean KO in the 12th...'
When it came to the punch,
the poem knew best - you, you were nowhere.
I'll say this - you know class
when you see it.
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