Update
Poetry is not dead.
It's waiting for you
to die first.
Dares you to write
like drunk lover
dares you to care.
Tries to slip
things in your drink
and give you a room.
Hopes you'll hang
yourself with pen,
paper, a blog post.
Dreams of muse
talking you daily
into suicide.
Imagines police
find no evidence
muse spoke to you.
Wants someone
other than you
to eulogize passing.
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