This is a poem,
Only so far as it has words,
On a page,
That you are reading,
Right now even,
At a rate,
I am controlling,
By my spacing,
And comma usage,
And with this power,
I am dragging,
Your eyes down,
To the bottom of the page,
And,
Unless you stop,
And curiosity won’t let you,
Because you want to know,
Where I’m going with this,
You will read,
To the end,
Willingly,
And maybe,
Perhaps,
Resent my having made you,
Keep on reading,
This whole time,
But that’s just how this goes,
That’s the game—
And you have to play it.
Because this is a poem.
Deal with it.
—
Special thanks to: Melissa Potter
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Want to read something longer by me? How about a whole novel!