Saturday, January 21, 2023

A More Perfect Union

I am a Union man, you know,

though what I know will often show 

a certain existential flow

that resonates an afterglow

to left and right, above, below, 

in front, behind, to friend and foe

as understanding where to go

when one hears the sound, "Go Os!” 

O Say! Can you see an average Joe

who looks like me, from "Bal-ti-mo"; 

who'd write in verse, but isn't Poe, 

or any other poet? So ...

Now I say, and may repeat, 

this laborious little feat,

considered a consequence

of dropping dimes like 50s, since

that's simply all I can afford, 

and like as not will reuse, restored

beyond as they’re presented here 

in present form, within this sphere

of ignominious influence 

where matters are, presently, dense

as lead. What's said and done 

reveals content that is pure fun-

damental form pertaining to 

retaining formal function. You

can say it know of little feat,

  a noun and an adjective, complete

as they describe one man to all 

those whose feats aren't seen as small

by one with whom they are compared. 

This little feat that you've just shared

combines, compounds, raises the bet, 

between you, dear reader, and a poet.

Exploring who I am, and am not, 

reveals the fact that all I've got

is what you see, and may elicit 

from me. Labor Omnia Vincit!