Christopher Franke

Sing!

This poem will not
be bottled.

That was of one time
shall be of whatever time.

That was of one voice
shall be of any voice
that can carry it
where it may go.

This poem will not
be canned.

It will not be labeled.

It will not be possessed.

It can not be nailed down.

It will not submit
to any exegesis
or vivisection,
deconstruction
or analysis
of anal retentives.

This poem's colon
is taking care of
its own business.

Do not second-guess
any of its commas

This poem's dash
is just
part of its verve.

Do not try to rebalance
its semicolons.

This poem is truckin',
an' it won't take no shit!

This poem has found
the truth
where the truth was
misunderstood.

Ignorance shall not kill this
poem.

Dust can not bury it.

This poem springs
from the ground of its own
demise.

Though it be
an apostrophe
to whom...
were or are
not tuned in,
it seeks for them.

Relevance edits
with all the capriciousness
of what is relevant
to whom.

Incantation
can bring forth
what it may.

This poem is a banner.

Its incantory clarion
heralds.

This poem sings
in the heart
of anyone
who can carry
the true tune
of its absolute pitch.

This poem has gone
where no one has
gone yet.

Though you be lost
may you find it.

To this poem, there
is no period