The Poet's Cosmic Dressing Down Poem by Bryan Taplits

'Don't look my way, ' the poet said to me,
He sneered and sobbed
at this unbidden clod,
Before my strangled plea.

'Where do you go, what paths you plod? '
I begged his answer clear.
'What trips you take, what views of land? '
'What mysteries do you see?
Are you prophet or are you seer? '

The poet turned-but wouldn't look straight at me,
Exclaiming,
'To you, there's nothing to be said! '
'But to readers of my poetry, ' he hissed-
'A union has been wed.'

'For I dance with the light
I croon at the moon
I sway, and am star struck as one,
But never you mind
Though I'm here,
You'll never find me,
For when I compose-
I'm as manifest as the blaze of the sun."