Tragedy’s the Most
Refined Poetry


It is performed rather
than narrated, declares the expert
explaining perhaps today’s emphasis
on living the poetic line.

To live with it                 until you weep.

When you can not         weep
for your own life          
Make the
greatest numbers         weep.

The harshest
language
The weakest
thought

No narrative,
just                                  Loss, Death, Misery,
                                         Hopeless Mischance and
                                         Repetitious
                                         Boredom.

Catharsis blooms.

L. Fullington

If you have any comments on this poem, L. Fullington would be pleased to hear from you.

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