True Art - Poem by Laurence Overmire
The cheap laugh hung provocatively
In the red glow of an afterthought
Lazily fanning the arrogant airs of a
Pedantic tragedian lost inside a
But oh how he yearned to give chase
Plant his carnal intellect into the
Joy of appetite
And quiet the tempest that mocked his
But no. He bit his lip.
Turned his nose upright
Wafted itinerant verses obliquely
To ponderous heights of critical acclaim.
(Previously published in Free Zone Quarterly, Jan 2001)
Comments about True Art by Laurence Overmire
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You