Not that. Not a black and blue
rant, bruising the paper, a howl
at the moon-faced, blank-look reader.
Not a sundrop below the horizon. So?
Raindrops are falling on your metre,
that doesn’t mean your verse is free to moo
and chew over wizened cliches like hay, like, hey,
all I am asking is —
Not that.
Shisa
