An end to the block
An end to the page
Rhythm and Rhyme 
Once were the rage.

Now anything goes
And the cul-de-sac rules
And the older poets wonder 
Why they went to school.

“But I don’t understand!”
“A poem in free verse?”
And creative journalism
Just sounds perverse.”

The rhyme was the reason 
When I was young
Back before Adlier, and Freud and Jung. 

Now all the heads 
Are nodding in awe
At pages of prose
With the door all ajar. 

There used to be first lines
And middles and ends
Poems to remember
Books that were friends. 

Now words wander all over
And when it’s all said
You just have to wonder
What you have just read. 

Iambic pentameter
Where did you go?
I could sleep better nights
With Frost, Shelly and Poe.