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Howard White

THESE HERE POETS

Used to be in the woods all you had to
watch for was junkies nodding off
getting caught with their ass in the bight
now its these christly poets
scratching away behind every tree
trying to get you to repeat everything
gotta do your job and their job too
babysit the useless bastards
until the first plane goes out
Canada Council gives em ten thousand bucks
to write about what it's like
to be a workingman
cost you half a day's pay to buy it
and here's all your own words
all phonied up to sound like
some fucking Okie or something
everything's all ass-backwards
jesuss it makes me mad
if that guy ever shows up around here again
he'll have a real accident to write about