Tag: Critic

  • The critic 

    I would be pleased to know him   If his words were true.  I doubt his images.   Does he think about me in those secondhand thoughts?    He speaks of love in his sonnets.  Am I his greatest verse,    His sole muse,  A reason for deceit?  In his faulty poetry, he is verse when I want prose.    Always rhyming without substance.  He…