Write for the living,
not the dead.
Make it new,
as Pound said.
Strip it clean
of all pretense.
Avoid straddling
the proverbial fence.
But use your guile
to let it smile…
and maybe sit in
the sun awhile.
Give it bling;
have it sing.
Be part of the
tireless string
of those who’ve drunk
from the muses’ fountain
spilling forth from
Parnassus mountain.
You’re the fly dancing
on sparkling water…
creating buzz in
the great hereafter.