IN RETROSPECT

IN RETROSPECT

The writer newly published
The flavor of the month
The watering eye

A voice trapped in
Another world gone by

Singular
Unique
Those words
Were gold

My favorite poems are
The one’s he wrote
About suffering

Mostly the old love
Poems about drinking
And having your soul
Torn out & ripped apart

Gritty bar poems
& one night stands, sarcasm &
Broken hearts in
Nightclubs

Poetic Noir

All dressed
In black

But then?
That poet?

He grew a conscience

And a dangerous one at that

His verses saw the
Monsters for what they
Were, what they are

The wandering poet
Now the slayer of dragons

The manifestos
The punches landed
A nation’s political demise

That it doesn’t take
Some empath
To see rising

Asking

What is pain &
What is life?

And where do we start or begin?

To walk through the dark
And out of the light

To some strange form of
Awakening

The death
Of the old guard or

Just what we need

Another punk rock
Fucking shaman
Trying to save the world

But in retrospect

Who gives a fuck
About poetry anymore

Anyways?

When everyone
Can be the same
Creating digital horse shit
From home

That gets consumed
And thrown out like
Garbage

Souls, all meaning recycled
In its now withering futuristic

Grace

The man
Mankind
Out of time &
Out of place

Rumor has it he’s dead
Rumor has it he’s been
Locked in a cell

By the monsters
He fought against

And lost

Burned books
And the thousands
Of other voices

Now gone

Without memory

So how’s that for dystopia?

Or a vision received ?

I found one of his books
Thrown in another pile

Mistaken for a Christian
Guide

Of prayer

~ R.M. Engelhardt
©2026