Reviewing the bad poetry of your friends is like being an undertaker.
Reviewing good poetry is like being a bad poet.
Saying what you like about poetry makes you sound like an ass.
Other people hate poetry.
All the good poets are dead.
The great poets died long ago, so there’s no photos or recordings.
There’s no color.
There’s no smell.
If there’s sound, it’s a mumbler’s or a bore’s.
In the poem I never know whether to rhyme, or not.
In the poem I never know whether to be obvious, or not.
It doesn’t make money.
It goes out of fashion.
My tablet quits.
I run out of ink.
I forget my idea.
I love poetry anyway.
You love me.