Forget the comma, the crow said, darting
onto another branch, random joy being his,
Open Field by Phyliss Levin
Forget the comma, the crow said, darting
onto another branch, random joy being his,
and quit counting syllables and making
da DA sounds under your breath
its been done
to death.
Forget the rules of grammar, and
societies niceties, but rather fly.
Leap then soar, first with newness,
then in homage to Beat Daddies gone before.
You cannot be groovy while grounded, and
creativity can't be seen from where
the others are standing (still). Ignore the
ones who surrender that power to rule. Forget
the semi-colon, the letters capitalized,
the couplets and the styles that scream "never more".
Fly.
Fly with your words,
your scratching ink on clean white page
and forget the crooked fear that
gives you pause on earth.
