PurpleZephyrUnicorn Returns Under an Alias
No one knows what poetry is who calls my pieces
journal entries. Oh, they are epic, those who write
of roosters rutting in the yard or Ariadne wailing
by her brother-beast. My poems don’t presume,
don’t posture with extravagant images. “Craft,
diction, sonics, blahblah admire this.” I concede
plenty praise those, but everyone reads mine.
Martial 4.49
