I met a poet once.
He was Morris Stegosaurus.
He was good.
Fluid, rambly, a slam guy.
I don’t do slams, so I didn’t see him often.

He moved away and,
surprise! Is no longer Morris Stegosaurus.
But he doesn’t seem to be writing, either,
which is a shame.
He was good,
and to lose his talent seems a waste.

I’d ask what the world will do without him
but it seems we’ve been without him for years now,
so I guess the loss is easily handled.