Tales of a Linguistic Anarchist

Am I a poet?
No.
I just enjoy being cavalier with
grammar and
sentence structure.
This masquerades well
as creativity.
I am fortunate to have found a space that
permits one to
tamper with forms and ideas,
cause literary mischief,
commit linguistic sins with impunity,
say "fuck off" to formality and
"hello"
to balderdash.
(tasty, tasty balderdash.)
These things are important to me,
not being a person who enjoys being told
what to do
how to do it
unless it is to do something particularly cool or
to avoid grave injury.
(hence the utility of mountain-climbing guidebooks)
It is decidedly misguided:
my appreciation for this space and
the freedom it provides,
as it gives false notions of what the world wants and
expects
from the ants that run it.
The supervisors of the ant hills,
the HR departments of the hives --
all with a set of rules and an appreciation
for the order they provide.
To those who say
"fuck order!" or
"fuck the hive!"
they will fine a certain amount this time,
the next requires a formal review,
and after that, well,
good bye!
Subversive use of grammar is hardly
the marker of an anarchist,
but
one would do well to obey.
You never know the list you'll end up on
next time you meet the TSA.