Dribble

It’s like I’m reading a magazine article

Every line seems like it could be rewritten so much more poetically.

It as if the idea and thought or feeling is conveyed but no one has to work for it.

You don’t have the chance to think. To figure it out.

This isn’t poetry. I mean I love the ideas and the sentiment- but I could rewrite each line in such a beautiful manner that invokes the ideas but allows you to arrive there on your own.

It’s just not poetic

It’s funny because it’s a salute to the arts - while it contains none.

Ink on a page

A few lines describe the thought

No - the thought is laid before you ready for consumption

A table set with no salad forks

You can eat but it’s assumed you’ll need hands

Sloppy at best

Chewing the lines

If you’ll excuse me

I need to throw up now