Poetry as a New Kind of Chic

Voices and sound are but noises,
eardrums made numb
by poems presented as puzzles:
humdrum in code,
annoying Pound/Eliot concoctions.

Poems once were sung,
words savored, sweets found in the sharing,
pleasure sucked out
as a sense of community kicked in,
leaving none alone.

But now? No flash. No pairing.
No sex.  No fun.
No insights brought forth for the airing.
Instead: clay shards
that can never be reassembled
to contain pure light.