maybe this (poetic shart)

 

Stand with the poem
Wailing atop a waterfall
The next two lines
Facing away from the watcher
And towards a lightning storm
Being some magister of this majestic malice
Two lines after that
A butcher reading from Queue cards
The next two lines

This is ink on paper
It is the most precocious thing I own
Nothing stands taller
Nothing falls more beautifully
Than these words on the page
And I had the idea of a visual whirlpool of words
But suggestions
Have progressed
To impression
These ideas
I hate them
Because there’s me
and this ultimatum
Of what would look good
What shouldn’t and what should
These pages were to stack alone
Nobody was ever supposed to see
And here I am
Writing about how I writ for one
I write for none
But me