When poets die the world rarely weeps
or mourns the passing of a voice.
To be fair they rarely rejoice, out loud:
Though they might think “good riddance
to that ornery old cuss", they seldom say so.
Instead they quote something they don’t
understand out of context from an early work
and say that was what the poet was all about –
never realizing that the poet's life is the Poem
the “poems” are just words randomly lifted
from the stream of time. Poetic fewmeats
that show only the beast was once here.

When a poet dies the world rarely weeps
Nor mourns the passing of a Voice