Are the poets idle? Are they "some" retirees? For they write riddles; while calling it poetry. They always writing something; everyday "reading eyes" see. One another they praising; like "that's" a fraternity! Even in the winter; yes! some writing cold. Don't talk about summer; then self they bold. All day they parading, up and down the street. Poetry not even fading; poets extending "their" fleet. I wanted to blank them; want to do so bad. But the occasional gem-poem, "that", does make it hard. But stop i must stop; stop reading they stuff. First i learning their system; then calling "meh" bluff!