Not All Poetry Is Created Equal

Free verse is sometimes not
to me plausible poetry;

it’s usually just an odd
choice
of line breaks, like
when the cat
stabs at my return
key
while I malign Mondays
in a Tweet.
As a literary
type
I do feel obliged
to pretend I really get it,
that wonky poetry peppers
my discourse
and punctuates the shopping lists
and stupid jokes
in my pocket journal.
But in the end
I still prefer the limerick
about that old man
from Nantucket.
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