September 5
The day before my birthday
This challenge ended
To judge my wordplay
And cleverness defended
Tasked with a long poem written
To change the world or just one life
OK, you can say I've bitten
To meet criteria that suffice
So here it lies
A poem about nothing
And the space it occupies
Further exam says I'm bluffing
I've got nothing to say
And a meter to say it in
Be it take a night or a day
I just do what I've been bidden
I can drop names of import
Like Jesus, Nietzsche, or Freud
Or even God as a last resort
Or deny Him to the void
As long as it sounds deep
It will get some attention
From the literary sheep
Who thrive on pretension
I want to please the ones who like Shakespeare
And wax iambic—I amb what I amb
To make the statements that soon disappear
They're written temporarily in jam
For those who like Dickenson
I can choose a meter for
A singsong Caruso, like Robinson
Gilligan and more
For ee cummings fans
I ups so many floating words say
Punctuations all **%^%
And sensibility's defrayed
And once I wrote a limerick
That was--like this poem--a trick
It didn't mean a thing
And couldn't help from being
A poem written by a prick
And haikus lose me
In terseness and in nonsense
Too few words to see
And free form is just
An excuse
To vomit jabberwocky
And -ish from my jibber
As I pine about truth and justice and
The American weigh
Your options carefully
Writing pall-mall and willy nilly
Until I can throw in
Someone like Camus in the mix
It's just absurd!
If you read this backward
It can certainly serve
As a self-righteous op-ed
Of opinion that strikes a nerve
You just can't beat
Pithy and laconic
But this poem can neither meet
Metaphyzzy or ironic
Yesterday was the 4th of September
Labor Day for expectant mothers
The day before my birthday
Cooking dogs and burgers with others
One day we'll all be dead
And history won't remember
The cow we grilled or us we fed
On that 4th day in September
But words and rhymes are cheap
And come easily without fail
The bullshit in long poems is deep
When everything's on sale!