Fruitflies Are Eternal, Poems Die Every Instant

by July 26, 2020 0 comments

So many poets, so few readers.

Poems are born and die at an exponentially accelerating rate.

The lucky ones flock to their internet homes
where they’re downloaded by 3 people each,
glimpsed for 15 or 20 seconds,
flickering impulses of our collective conscious
lost to eternity.

Many are gorgeous
expressing the most profound impulses
of the human soul.

editors note:

Let those pleasing profundities light the luck you lift in 15 to 20 seconds. – mh clay

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