A word I learned from Lemony Snicket
which here means: the next to last poem
or twenty nine of thirty.
Poetry pushes profundities
through the poet to the perusing reader.
Pointing to and painting the poles
of the compass of human existence.
You’ll find beauty and anger
peace and despair
pointed questions, painful lessons
perhaps you can put yourself there.
Each poem part of a polymorphic anthology
to create each piece we
pierce the soul to draw forth
polysyllabic monstrosities.
Read this aloud
in front of the mirror.
Behind all the spit,
is your face still clear?