As a foreword, this poem was written after a long late-night haiku session. I was quite happy with how the layout came out. It's as much a visual work of art as it is a literary one. It seems to serve as a fitting conclusion to any encounter with poetry.

"Untitled, for good reason" by Mike Lietz

   my poetry flows, not from my heart,
                    not from my soul,
           not from my life or experiences,

  but from  a tortured mind
            t r a p p e d
                in  a playground
          electrified monkeybars.

Can you see why I haven't posted too many more of my poems on this site? Actually, I consider this to be one of the better ones.

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