Obituary

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Abstract

y that poetry is dead. They say it must be true, They read it in the Times (And rhymes Are certainly extinct there).You’d think There’d be some expression of remorse. But, of course, An elegy to a dying verb, Would be totally absurd.A word at play

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is out of place (as are references to race) In the periodical of record.The blogosphere Would pounce on it, Grasp it in its claws, Tease it For a day or two, Play it to death, Then cart its limp body around, Until no one but CNN Would cover it.</article></body>

Obituary

A poem by Ronald C. Flores-Gunkle

They said today that poetry is dead. They say it must be true, They read it in the Times (And rhymes Are certainly extinct there).

You’d think There’d be some expression of remorse. But, of course, An elegy to a dying verb, Would be totally absurd.

A word at play is out of place (as are references to race) In the periodical of record.

The blogosphere Would pounce on it, Grasp it in its claws, Tease it For a day or two, Play it to death, Then cart its limp body around, Until no one but CNN Would cover it.