Roses r red, violets r blu/Poetry's honchos r bidding adieu
Posted by Deanna Isaacs on 01.07.13 - Chicago Reader
As editor,
He couldn't fail:
Circulation
Up times three.
With Lilly cash
He made it pretty
Ran more prose
For every ditty
Two national prizes
Were his reward,
And now he rises—
Could he have been bored
With ink-stained fingers
And volumes of verse?
Reading crap like this,
Did he think he was cursed?
No fear.
A higher calling
Takes him come June
From Poetry's coop
To God's own spoon
The School of Divinity.
He'll teach and write
Inspired by
A bright new light
That joy and grief
And then belief
Invested when
They found him here.
And while he goes,
So goes John Barr
Retiring prez
And po'try czar
Which leaves
The Open Door ajar.
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