Not nostalgic, wistful, blissful
wishful, tearful, woeful, forceful,
heretical, sexual, political, snappy,
happy, sad, romantic or mad.
Dull as a butter knife, lyrical
like an off-key song, exciting as
everything’s right and nothing’s
gone wrong, neither rain nor shine.
Never could be called sublime,
divine, crude, cruel, kind, refined,
sympathetic, copacetic, and it’s
not shameful, nor disdainful.
Must stanzas be presented with
purpose, can lines share feelings
without meaning, what is a pencil
if, like this poem, it has no point?