Insecure Poet

I will annoy and impress you at the same time
and write a poem with a jackhammer;
and to let you know my poem needs editing,
I will cut down the whole line
of towering whites pines
that line my side yard.

And though it sounds fine to you,
I will replace the muffler
on my old station wagon
and set the gap on my spark plugs;
and drain the crankshaft,
and lube the kingpins.
and for the sake of trying
I will add on a new porch
and tear it down before nightfall.

I may even need
a whole new septic system—
one that can handle
this torrent of wasted words.
Passing cars will slow down
to see my gaudy Christmas display.

Though wrapped in insecurity,
at least one poet
will be called
industrious.

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