We are all tired of the same clap-trap therefore, believe clouds are the cheeks of cherubs bending over a moon, And want to see between the verbs. or just another fishnetted legs tied round-the-ears crock, and I'll hawk synonyms into the cheesy stretched-out whole of that presumptuous verse. Such "poetry" is electrodes jabbed under a Vader cap; a rigor-mortis jump then limp crash. A composition should not be full of tedious, trite, tired, modifiers, but a wrecking-crew of lateral cruelty. And remember: Bull-patty adjectives are all liars. "A poem should not mean," but be the quantum space between two bent clouds igniting all substance crazed.