in praise of wb yeats
fuck I hate yeats -
every molecule and electron
within me - despises him -
he's a priest of cheap tricks
shoving his mitre
in a choirboys mouth -
nothing he says has merit -
and everything is divisive
and dull - and dulled
because he says it -
put him beside a real poet -
like rilke - who peels you apart
like lsd - or emily dickinson -
with her subtle honesty -
yeats is the lowest of the low
which is why
he is held so high
to enable his admirers
to jump - not at all -
to surpass him
in their quest for the sky
