This is Just to Say

The poetic tradition is lost like one of
Little Bo Peep’s sheep.

The universal is dead, stomped flat by
narcissistic whining of a self-indulgent generation

that has nothing to complain about, no real angst
except the self-created.

When one is fat, socially protected by “wokeness,”
the mind becomes flaccid, senses dull and like

the long dead geocentric theory placing the
earth at the universal center, solipsism

sings from every page. Badly.
Poem after nauseating poem cries out

from faceless poets that no one will remember—
I am the all! My suffering is important

while stuffing down the next Big Mac
followed by slurping shake.

Where tappings on keys produce even worse
Shelley stuff:

“I fall upon the thorns of life!
I bleed!”

The poem is dead, I tell you. D. E. A. D.

Who wants to read stuff about urinating,

I mean, what does pissing and moon bleeding
have to do with the universal other than

half does one, the other half the other one,
and everybody pisses?

The younger romantics began the ruin, the 60s
and confessionalism knocked down the castle.
Barbarians rushed in to continue the attack on
exceptionalism, on art. Philistines took power.

When a poem on drunken puking is given the same
status as the Waste Land, when elephant dung

becomes the Virgin Mary and elevated to the level
of the Mona Lisa, culture is dead, the West is demolished.

Call in the cadaver dogs.
The smell is strong.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye, Canceling the West

Forget about Normandy.
Forget about Neil and Buzz.
Forget about America saving Europe.
Forget about the millions of “immigrants”
the U.S. takes in.
Forget Thanksgiving—its Norman Rockwell
atmosphere, family love.
Forget Christmas, whether pagan or not, it is
about hope and love.
Forget carols, symphonies, music that means something.
Embrace rap with kill the bitch.
Cancel Aunt Jemima because to the left a successful
black woman is offensive.
Rename her the Pearl Milling Company.
That will teach Auntie Tom.
Cancel Mr. Potato head.
Rename him simply potato head because a dick is offensive.
Too bad a lot of men got one.
Cancel Dr Seuss.
Kids learning about history is dangerous.
Learning anything is dangerous, except the left’s
vaguely defined postmodern moral standards.
Add more and more safe spaces for snowflakes
so they can cancel every offensive phenomena
the West has satanically produced.
Cancel the differences between men and women.
There aren’t any. Every “woke” individual knows they
are biologically the same.
Tear down all the statues: Jefferson, Washington,
Columbus,—racist white guys anyway.
No one knows history is being killed.
Cancel history so the left can rewrite it from many
perspectives: Alinsky, Marx, Heidegger, Foucault,
Derrida, etc. Deconstruct truth so no one knows
what’s real or fake any longer.
Cancel Gone with the Wind. Art can’t be beautiful
and true.
Twitter cancel Trump.
Facebook cancel Trump.
Can’t have millions hearing truth. Offensive.
Cancel Barbie. Boobs too big. Attacks the self-esteem
of small breasted women.
Cancel Disney Dumbo because singing crows are
offensive to blacks.
Cancel masculinity because having balls
is frightening, scary.
Go down the line cancelling everything:
food, clothes, books, movies, cartoons,
gender, ice cream, cream of wheat, etc.
Feminize the men.
Keep on keeping on cancelling culture, history,
like in Orwell. Egalitarianism is only for the pigs
as they are more equal than all the other animals.
Cancel it baby! Cancel it cancel it cancel it!
The East is watching and is coming to cancel you.