Reader

Reader

Life is absurd it reached the point of no return there is too many writers but only one reader. 666. Today the Reader begins his list there is fifteen million six hundred sixty six. Some of these Authors seem very very good some of them stink. He putts the stink on the shelf he only reads the best of the very best. He skips the cartoons you get the idea it will soon be manageable for him this list. He needs to get the list down to 666. Two poems every Day he will Read for one year then take some time off to rest to start over the next item on this list is Novels Novellas Great beasts of length. He only reads poems this reader is slick. He noses the books to find prose now no rhymes without reasons then he suddenly finds the Charlax poetry section in the lieberry. He quickly Marks his list to include only this one guy. This is what he Read.
The West.
Would eye live in the old wild west
the notebook penned inside my vest
the pacifist
the old homeless
beaten down into the ground
just for being around them
those who kill
then bury the evidence in the sea
then they danced over my demise
drinking whoring killing more of there own kind
do not count me among the living
the brother killed me the long time over
then the same sort of killers
do it over then over
while they rule nothing but the wicked
who choose to be like them
soon to be recognized
then forever gone
you should not have killed me old son
The Reader closed his list. THIS he smiled this poem this poet this is all eye will ever Read.