Dear Mr. Beat,

I write you in poetic poise to poison your perception with a great prejudice that has befallen you,

See Mr. Beat you’ve been shamed,

Your candle wax heart ripped from your melting body and stitched into another not your own.

I write you Mr. Beat because I am more than a fan,

See Mr. Beat I’m a student.

One that has been taught with your every narcissistic and anarchic and introverted breath.

I write you because so many writers take you for a bible Mr. Beat,

See what they have written down,

All the abuse but no substance all the jazz but no freedom all the travel but no reflection.

I write you because critics think they know the real Mr. Beat,

They see what you’ve written down,

They call it over read, pretentious, poorly written, and a youthful dream doomed to die.

I write you to let you know Mr. Beat that they’re right,

Both of them are you see,

I see your overreliance on onomatopoeia as you obfuscate your failings with fictitious facts.

I write now to hide the truth because of you Mr. Beat,

Others flee because others do better,

They lie, live, lay, lambast, and look better than you as they bring their own bullshit to bear.

I write you because I hate they way you think sometimes Mr. Beat,

You lived so close to death,

You know how the salty sea spray stings your face as you stand a mere snuff from extinction.

I write you because I am afraid of my own mind mashed messily into a mesh of meat and bone,

You see how I have lived,

And that’s why I like you Mr. Beat.

I write you because for all you selfish breathes and world weary jaunts into the jaws of death,

In the end you thought outside,

Of yourself, of this world, of space and the stings it brings to flesh and blood.

I write to you Mr. Beat because I’ll love you,

For how you existed in time,

You captured time itself how ever briefly before you fell out it entirely.

Sincerely,

I.J

© 2016 Jared “I.J” Steinberg. All Rights Reserved.

#poetry