ANOTHER POME

so i write a pome
and realise its a Jacko song already.


so i try to write another pome
and i realise its the theme from Baywatch.


so i try to write another pome
and it turns into an already famous sonnet.


so i try to write a play
and its great/it really is
but its Death of a Salesman again
only in a different font.


so i go outside/inhale the secret night air for dinner/cigarette for desert/and 
look at the big blank moon - the earths exiled soul
as
someone
else
already called it.


M O O N - moon as S King wrote.


and i 


hoooowl!


i saw the best minds . . . dammit!