Flagrant Misuse of Poetry

if I knew what I was doing, then I don’t think I’d be a poet,

I might be a physicist or a pirate,

or maybe something else that doesn’t start with a ‘p’,

like a beekeeper that writes bad detective novels that no one reads because they’re about beekeeping related crimes,

and they go over everyone’s head,

or maybe below it, I don’t know,

either way, I certainly would never choose to not know what the hell I’m doing,

yet here and hear I am for want and waning hands,

tis nobler to raise steeds,

but cheaper to burn seeds