Begrudgingly, Our Obscure Poet Enters Here

As time goes by, as it tends to do, I begin to have certain prickly feelings regarding obscure poets who seem to wander aimlessly in and out of poems by obscure poets.  These feelings are hard to track down.  But you might find them here, if you have nothing better to do.  I am, of course, too little known to be obscure.  But if I was just obscure enough you just might catch site of what could be an obscure poet right about here.  She might be a slightly bedazzled middle-aged librarian washing in her kitchen sink with Diet Bubble Up a miniature Great Dane; or he might be a frazzled slightly off center astrophysicist painting his 5th dimensional house a near tacky, almost garish, burnt orange. The best poets are rarely poets are they.  They are almost always phantoms whom you can find right here, and even poets who write about writing poetry are really alive only here.  Our cat, Gabby, is shedding all over you.  Finally,begrudgingly, our obscure poet enters here.