23 Dec 2015 – The Poet Contemplates His Stats

Were I to lift in lofty tones
those things o’er which I gnaw the bone
I’d doubtless hike my like counts well,
and my subscriber numbers swell.

So many other things (I guess)
would help, perhaps parading flesh?
A draw for sure, to match the times,
so long as what’s revealed’s not mine!

Obsessions are, to poets, gifts –
the hymn they harp on, tunes they riff.
Can poets help the lines they write
which draw them, just like moths, to light?

A soapbox in an empty alley,
down which only like minds sally?
I am no other than this man –
let this suffice, the words must stand.