Nothing being equal,
we live our lives,
prepare for our deaths.

The good news of poetry
is in the lines of the young.
They sing passion
and go with what they’re feeling.

The older poets gravitate
to the notion of universal injustice,
how it was never
a level playing field,
and now sure isn’t.

They were wonderful,
and talented, and now
they’re gone--while
the hacks go on hacking,
and True Beauty marries
an ugly man with the nicest shoes.