Poetry died long ago.

Though you may find it decaying in a swamp of no one values language anymore.

Or rotting in a stagnant pool of grammarless texts and overused hashtags.

Its stanzas decomposed.

Its syllables donated.

Its meanings and concision irrelevant and unread.

Poetry died long ago.

And I don’t expect a resurrection.

What concerns me are the dominos.

For goodness sake the dominos!

When we see no art, no value in precise and thoughtful words,

Why would others care what we have to say?

Poetry died long ago.

Communication, trust, relationships are three succeeding dominos.