It has come to my attention, courtesy of my junk email folder, that I am being bombarded with poetry on a daily basis, hourly even. While not labeled "poetry" per se (that would be gauche), it does come cleverly disguised as solicitations to buy supplements designed to make the male organ larger.
Of course every man, woman and chimp knows that no such thing exists, which is how I've come to realize that these "ads" are actually, in fact, cleverly disguised poetry disseminated to the masses guerilla-style. How clever thou art, yon poets!
Being a patron of the arts (I own three Z Gallerie paintings), I realized that I would be remiss if I were to continue reading each of the thousands that inhabit my junk box every day for hours on end without publicizing at least a few, for art's sake.
And here you have it, my digital tribute to the wordsmiths of the world who, too humble and/or shy to trumpet their own metrical composition, finally will finally receive the recognition they so heartily deserve.
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