Poem: about poems I hate

i hate poems that are written in distant first person
where the poet fists himself through a forest
in an existential crisis
and the metaphor for that is a fog or a fake face
i hate reading poems like that because
there’s more art in an autistic kid accidentally stabbing
herself with a fork too hard so she starts bleeding
talking horses and vampires that are talking horses
i hate poems where pain isn’t pain
where, suddenly pain is a mere word
covered by a splintered alphabet—-
just like all of the above


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