Caution

Don’t let your babies grow up to be poets
who curl and tumble into their abysses,
look around in terror to report what they see,
emerge haunted. Unable to take much seriously.

Unheeded, for no one really wants to know.
Unappreciated, for poets don’t advance commerce.
Worse, their words must be drenched
in spilled oil, paved over, outsung in churches,

lest people get wise.