The Unbelievable Poetic Novel
by Notty Bumbo, 2015
There is a meme that claims
Poets do not good novelists make.
Could it be the long form,
Or maintaining a monologue sufficiently?
Perhaps it is the expository wind
Too many have come to expect
Of the post-modern raconteurs
Dominating the charts.
Or maybe the false belief that poets drink
With a different and less-marketable cadence
Than their longer-winded brethren.
Yet basic research - and all novels
Rest their laurels thereupon -
Say nothing to these charges.
More likely that poets like to get to the point,
Fail to see the value
Of endless character evolution.
Know too well the short attention span
Of the few readers left among the thinning herds.
But it would be an error
Of galactic proportions
To allow such hyperbole to rest undisturbed.
There is nothing more novel
Than tales told in transit
Between one word and the next,
Leaping across the voids of syntax
As though clothed in the amber of joy.