Charles Bukowski, Dylan Thomas, Buadelaire
poets with sturdy legs to walk the line
way down yonder at the bottom of Poet valley
Pacing the street to put the beat on the sheet
poets who bled ink
while we slept safe in our beds
men with sturdy post-men’s legs
pacing out the line, the verse
the finest non-rhyme
the staccato beat of the street
poems with the beat of a high heeled shoe
to the loop of the police siren
to the clatter of pool balls
sturdy poet’s legs
scuffin’ down dirt tracks
trudging along farm tracks
sleepin’ in haystacks
pacing circles in the jail-yard
shiverin’ in the bone-yard
dancing in the moonlight
screaming at the daylight
..for what it reveals
so let us raise a glass to the Sturdy Legged Poets
with their fallen arches,
claw toes and sciatic metre.