Bryon D. Howell is a poet currently residing in New Haven, Connecticut.
He has been writing poetry for a great number of years. Recently, his poetry
has appeared in poeticdiversity, Red River Review, The Quirk, The Cerebral
Catalyst, and The Lost Beat. Mr. Howell's poetry is "soon-to-be published" in Cosmopsis Quarterly and The Externalist. He is also launching his own poetry e-zine in April called The Persistent Mirage.
 

Bryon D. Howell 

Lately I tear

through poetry

like some dirty enemy

I might get

to off.

 

The best part is,

I can even go back

when I feel like it,

and manipulate each one

of you

over and over

again,

violating God knows

what

and who the hell

cares?

 

To me, each and every

one of you

pages

is nothing but

a number -

 

purchased - by me.

 

I can even pimp

each and every one of you

out

and ask others

to use you

as they

see fit.

 

I can massacre

a whole forest.

 

In my perfect opinion,

trees

don't need

to be saved.

 

They don't even

deserve

to be hugged.

 

They need to be

cut, sliced, put in their

place

and branded.

 

You sheets of

paper,

can't hide.

 

Us poets

find you.

 

When we run out

of paper

we'll write on anything

paper-related...

paper towels,

toilet paper,

pizza boxes,

along the margins

of the local newspaper.

 

Ah, but don't worry.

 

You all,

eventually,

get your revenge

through arrest warrants

court documents,

and of course -

overdue notices.

 

It's a fair fight.

 

Poets are always

screaming:

 

"Save the trees! Save the trees!"

 

It's a good front.

 

And when all

else fails

and we

feel like

you're gaining some level

of momentum,

we simply hire

ignorant thugs

 

to burn you.