Salt on my wound,
All those words I don’t understand
Such as non-pareil
cowbird
And dunderhead.
The little man doesn’t like
These elusive words.
Have you got nothing of your own
To tell us?
The meaning has absconded
From this poem.
There are word generators
That do a better job than you did here.
They produce honest words, such as
Owls
artillery
And cheese.
All these words
Could have had a purpose
In a real poem.
They are squandered
On this mechanical cyclops,
This ghost in a gutter,
This billius ego trip.
No wonder
Poetry has
Such bad reputation.
I have to say that I didn't really enjoy the NaPoWriMo Day 20 prompt, but I decided not to take myself too seriously and to fool around with it. The PAD prompt for today was "beyond" and it was easy to combine these two.
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