Poems ✍️

Oh! the charm of our old Classic Poets,
how abasing they could be to one another,
criticizing reams of poems by the other
'til fisticuffs at times it would come to.

Then they'd share a gallons worth of burgundy,
slandering other bards that weren't there,
imbibing 'til the crack of who knew when,
no memory, morning next of wine or alms.

Waking up against each other under branches
still cloaked within its autumn potpourri
of leaves changing hues by Sun's dawning
which sobered up the poets jaded minds, and-

opening all senses to what they all do best,
and realizing the common thread amongst them,
and being the eloquent wordsmiths they be-
they spat and abased each other all day long.



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Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR