Keep your Facebook-tier truisms
And cringe inducing ‘poems’;
My fear is once I’m dead that
You’ll engrave on my stone:
here lies Ruaridh
he touched life’s
depths
he should remember
going forward
to come back up for breath.
***
My poems are strawberry handkerchiefs
(That means their proof is ocular);
But instapoets are fake deep
Like backwards binoculars.
Shorter Poems 