Shake The Goblins Off My Ankles

Life Is All The Same

I'll give those poems of yours a look, I said,
When I can shake these goblins off my ankles
Or goose my neck up far enough to take a gander!
Sometimes I get too damn caught up
In Blogger and its lost-child supplicants
And my own self-serving interest
In writing up those esoteric aspects
That I finally come to understand
In some eloquent post that only
Other bloggers will ever
Get the gist of or
Be so silly as to love—
So much for Ego, I admit;
It always takes it all.
The Poet in me doesn't understand
How I can fritter away so much time
With this, but it's true.
And understand myself just as well
When I waste or spend
(Call it what your will)
hours and weeks and years even
On a single poem that never really ends
And may never be read,
But that's the art I draw upon myself
Whether any witness knows my labor here or not.

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