Unpublished Poet at the Black Rose Piano Bar
Joy Hewitt Mann

He's at that barely past
sixty stage
when denial sits like a patron
at the bar (like himself)
and holds forth on all the zillion things
he knows
nothing about,
the wisdom sixty years has
loaded (as he is)
and the equally bombed crowd
(under thirty) hangs on
his every word
('course he's bought them a round)
'bout the editors & publishers &
all the other world warpers
'specially that young "dirty
long-haired hippie" poet
who lives next door

and he knows every word that
ever wrote


all the "pervert
goddamn poets" of today
"ain't worth an effin' damn."