Call me El Desdichado. Call me Bob.
Call me ConnectHook. Call me names.
I will still write poetry.
I’m a printed–word artist,
veteran of the poetry wars,
widely-published in my dreams.
I am disgusted . . .
hence — my verse:
one-man backlash to poetic blackout,
a lyrical stand against vapid Modernism,
committed to the subversion of poetic dullness,
proudly reacting in old-school style —