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Kill the Poet
Let us kill this poet, for
He can’t act nor show it
Only daze and dream until he rots downstream, to
Linger and then breach
at the root of his seed
What good does he serve us?
[as man]
Just where does he stand?
Or better yet,
will he even change our world today?
in all his strange, radical ways?
All they really tend to do
Is distract me and you
From the impending,
[unread truth]
That every man ropes his own noose
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