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Guest Poet Tom Jett

Street Preachers

the seasons i pass become illuminated by each

rumor of a second coming

perhaps with the advent of the Y2k bug

i stepped over a mad prophet who spoke to me in

fervish languages that once were indignant but have become sterile

with cheap cigarettes, cheap wine and the grueling life of a wayward preacher

we spent hours talking about the message written on his sandwich board

which read "Repent!"

the letters were backwards and tainted

it's what happens when the sacred is revealed with spray paint and is plagierized

beneath the calloused words that fell from his tongue

i saw a hidden meaning that i sought to uncover

but when i began to probe his anxiousness showed so he lit another newport

it was then i realized he had fallen from grace and his wisdom had become

encapsulated in grimacing stones

April, 2001

Tom Jett's Questions:

One problem i have with my poetry is i always wonder if my use of metaphors may be a little overbearing.

to me they seem cluttered at times and the flow is sometimes interupted.

i was just wondering if someone could critique me on this and maybe tell me how i could make my poems a little more uniform. i am also somewhat unschooled and not familiar with traditional poetry so i'm having a hard time finding my niche.

i've only been writing for about two years so any input would be greatly appreciated.

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