MASTERCLASS

MASTERCLASS

I sat in the masterclass
rewriting a haiku
for the ninety
ninth time

when this unkempt lunatic
barged into ths room
hair, spectacles, beard
much like
Allen Ginsberg

he had a can
of spray paint with him
at a
    furious, frenetic pace
did aeorosol poetry

floor to ceiling
all over the walls

and all
I had to save aesthetic rigour
defend high culture

was a tiny
little replica of
an evil Muramasa katana

but I would not dare
to sully that blade.