No, not for me; the plastic verse,
The lines of fractured prose.
Give me instead the singing rhyme
That each true poet knows.

The imagery that overwhelms
And sweeps you like a flood.
The thrilling, driving, metered verse
That pulses like the blood.

I want to feel the joy and pain,
I want to taste the fear;
So take your plastic poetry,
And stick it in your ear!
29 May 93.

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