The cover of this book is yellow
But, for the sake of argument
Let us call it red.
It goes without saying that you are alive
But, for the sake of argument
Let us say you are dead.
And not only dead but buried
The headstone smeared with dirt.
(Don’t take offence, it’s merely polemic
You pretentious little squirt.
You self-regarding upstart
You couldn’t write if you tried.)
So, for the sake of argument
Let’s settle this outside.
***
Between the writer and the reader
Somewhere the meaning floats
And, waiting on the sidelines,
The poem holds the coats.