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Flatpack Poem

If this poem came from IKEA
It would be a flatpack poem
You'd have to assemble it
In your own time
From its various parts
Connecting the metre and the rhyme
Aligning the alliteration
And offering up heartfelt emotion
And deep thought, bolting them
With an Allen key that isn't yet lost,
But will be.
There will be diagrams in the pack
But you won't be able to figure them out
And you'll see how it goes
By yourself
And, folks, that's called free verse.
If this poem came from IKEA
It would have an obscure
And even unpronounceable title
"Schlund" or "Darry" perhaps
Or "Eldred",
And everyone would have a poem like it
Somewhere around the place,
But pretend they didn't.

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