Some poems require
an emotional investment,
a commitment to providing
a lived truth, spoken with
a poetic voice meant to
enthrall and excite.

Others are simply bullshit
requiring no depth, no meaning;
kind of like a wino accidently
wandering onto a set of sober,
highly intellectual debaters;
not unlike this very poem.

Yet both have a purpose;
the former, providing some
kind of meaning, while
the latter, emphasizing
the absolute absurdity
of chasing meaning.