Angst Of The Edge Poem by Keith Rushing

Some poets make lousy friends
they'll eventually skewer you with their poison pen
their insulting writ of relentless nasty venom
like some twisted performance-art-form
naked foist of un-allayed aggression
the dilettante's vitriol of familiarity slices like a knife
the very nature of chumminess segues into adversity
a quirk, an idiosyncrasy, a malevolent adherence
so affixed are poets to the unmitigated truth that it is as a fist to the face
a horrendous starkness of civility
justified by a requisite needy urgency of expedience
contemptuousness brought on by an anxious desire to blow you off -ASAP
they'll turn on you like a feral cat