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.