The Age for Bad Poetry

"I took a poetry class in college
And the most important thing I learned
Is that I'm no poet."
I've told the story
Wink and smile
So many times
Branding like the soda I drink
The car I drive
The music on my ipod
The ipod
The ipod

ipoet

But here we are.
This is the age for bad poets.
The culture spins down the drain
To the beat of arrhythmic verse
Cliché
Douchebaggery
Holds every office
Levers of power
Pulled into uneven lines.
T.S.Elliot slouches toward the poetry slam.
William Blake dreams apocalyptic visions
Of talking heads debating economic band aids
While we burn and burn
And reach up out of the flames
To tap the keys
Paperless in the heat.
Not protest tunes, but jingles.
Not novels, but fabricated memoirs.
Art produced for uncollateralized credit.
This is not the age for great poetry.
This is the time to widen our eyes
Take in the civilization's decay
Spread it amongst ourselves.
This is not poetry.
This is how the world ends.
Digital chlamydia.