The Poet Anonymous

There is magic in the pressurised air of the Udderground
Aground of wordly machinations where the magic happens
In way of Error: Poem Not Found in way of Poet Not Found
In the Udderground Game of Tit-for-Tat and human kindness
Hence the prisoner’s dilemma plays out once more for thee
Whence the poetry factory never sleeps its frenzy its madness
Its following and sadeness follows what predictable patrony
Of likely admirers, of fans fanning the fart of arty farty friends
Of friends of multi-level marketing and organic herbal paranoia
No Approved Therapeutic Claims: is she writing about moi?

Lately I notice how popular she is the poet Anonymous lest
From the Dialectics of Tit-for-Tat arise the contradictions of
Disgust and Adoration, where imitation is the sincerest
.. flattery hits the poet like a bus damaged in transit behove
Of postmodern plagiary and no approved therapeutic claims
Before the congress of god-man, is she writing about me asks
He, is he making fun of me asks she, who cares and blames
Anonymous without looking in the mirror afraid to see what lacks
For the surfeit in the magic number of points, but hey don’t count
Because the poet Anonymous don’t care, she don’t count.