A Poet's Lament

A Poet’s Lament by GiGi Guajardo

You are a real Dick-inson
you don’t even deserve to have a sealed letter saying
“Heart we will forget him
Heart we will regret him
Heart we will abett him”
by telling him he’s unworthy of Aunty Em’s last name
My bro Walt Whit says you’re full of shit
walking around like
you’re ALL transcendental or sometheen’
you see you messed with the wrong poet
because heartbreak is like fuel to a Plath oven fire
No way you’ll come out with Neruda desire
you are icier than a Robert Frost on an Edgar Allen kind of day
You are a Poe-ser who’s only read the Raven anyway
and you’re unaware of how I don’t care about the dirty air you steal from others
as you rant about how your favorite poet is Dr. Seuss
When I ask about love poems
it’s roses are red, violets are blue
never original and never new
poets roll in their graves at how they can’t save the individuality
there’s general consensus behind your eyes
your conforming makes for rebellious cries
But just as Maya Angelou, Still. I. Rise
Because this is BS next to the TS that explains why women weep
as Italian amore seeps into everyone’s mind except yours
Your romance has the sophistication of Captain Underpants
while I wish for someone to whisper
mi amore se nutre de tu amor, amada and know that Pablo said it better
than the pop proxy produced to please pre-teen ears
that Rihanna singing “my love is your love” is not a poetic plea
but you wouldn’t see the beauty of fall trees on Walden Pond;
You’re Thoreau-ly devoid of meter and rhyme
more ridiculous than Kerouac, Jack in your mind. You gave me Mexico City Blues
because you couldn’t understand my love of the Spanish Moon
Your love was fickle like a monsoon
you didn’t love my poems and me unless I
spoon-fed them to you, soup and bread them to you
but when it all comes down to it
metaphorically, categorically, and anaphorically
you’ll never understand my 5-7-5, my free verse bomb
So read up
and I’ll find my own Langston while you’re gone.***