Humble Poet

Asking a poet to be humble
Is an act supremely stupid
In my humblish opinion

For what tops in arrogance
The idea that you let brain
Sculpt the wretched pulp into words
By the heat of spent synapses

There is no humble poet
Just pretenders: shy performers
Ever wishing someone will
Play out their craft for them
Basking in the applause of their genius

But if contrived verse with phrases
Like “the heat of spent synapses”
Keeps you from the snares of the forsaken

Then you
Must do
Your thing

Just be worth saving