I am the greatest
Ezra Pound for Pound
poetry champion ever
My verses float like a butterfly
but sting like a bee!
O.K., who wants to take me on
C’mon, T.S. Eliot, while the evening
is spread out against the sky like
a patient etherized upon a table
Hit me with your best shot, man!
Hey, Shakespeare
I’m talkin’ to thee, dude!
Let’s me and thou get us hence
to ye olde Globe Theatre
and duke it out anon!
How about you Emily Dickinsen?
Just you and me, Baby
Man to man!
¿Or usted y me, Pablo Neruda
Hombre al hombre
¿Comprehendes?
Hey, Willie Wordsworth
Get your butt over here!
Me and you, man,
are goin to recollect in tranquility
how my lyrical ballads are goin to
beat the Dickens out of yours!
Come with me, E. B. Browning,
and let’s count the ways
poetry fans love my sonnets
Rage all you want against
my poetry machine, Dylan Thomas,
but ain’t no stoppin’ me now
What’s the matter, Thomas Wolfe?
Can’t you go home again--
to your mommy?
Put em up, Virginia Woolf
I ain’t afraid of you
Who’s next?
Kerouac?
Ginsberg?
Beat it, fellows!
Hit the road, Jack,
and don’t come back, Allen,
or I’ll give you somethin’
to really howl about!
And what are you waitin’ for,
Ferlinghetti
That rebirth of wonder
still hasn’t arrived?
O.K., Langston Hughes,
take a hike to one of them rivers
you’ve known and bring
that dirty ole man Bukowski,
along with you to get a bath!
Come on out of that yellow wood,
Robert Frost, and let’s see what you got
It don’t matter which road you take
You can run but can’t hide
Well, any one left, livin’ or dead,
poet enough to take me on?
C’mon! C’mon!
I’ll vie with any one of you
one rhyme at a time
or brawl with you all at once
with blank verse or free
It makes no difference
for I am the greatest
My lyrics float like a butterfly
but sting like a bee!
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