THIS POEM IS GOING TO BE LEGENDARY

By David N. Donihue

This poem is going to be legendary

Legendary I tell you

Like the word-smiths of yesteryear

Quoted for reminders of why we avoid the bar

Like a misfit whose suicidal ideation

echoes the frustrations and tranquilizes in

a sense of mindfulness into the ever-evolving common man

Like a delicate desert rose

on a formulaic card from someone you’re suppose to know

It will provoke the mind

and warm the spirit

With the tenderness of a kiss

And the ethos of dynamite

And like a lullaby made of

candy coated steam engines

bloating the nerves to your heart

It will look at you and say to you

Two words you must always remember

A message you will softly shout to you

It will outwit

And out wise

And out play

And out fuck

the drunkards

and the academics

of which I am neither

I have little in common with the greats of the past

Other than our shared skill sets in acquiring poverty

Yet this poem will be legendary

Yet what kind of a self-absorbed prick

would call his own poem legendary?

The two words better be really damn good

They better thrash and trash

And bubble through the collective human regret

They better alter ideations

And cast away iterations

Of all that is everything

that has ever stood in our way

Yet what makes

this prose legendary

is not the scribe

or the scribbles

It is in fact,

the hidden

subject matter

Who is currently absorbing these very syllables

As that which could prove legendary

is the reader

And the two words in question?

Keep Shining