This is a poem written by Delmont Klein when he lived in Rego Park, Queens(just before living in Queens became synonymous with abject failure)
This is the only surviving non rhyming poem(water damage) and I don’t know if I like it or not but out of pity for poor Delmont I'll put it up here in the hopes that a little post humous attention be paid him.
He passed away, BTW,RIP, and I just read an e-book about his life. I'd be happy to share with my readers the tasty tidbits of this obscure but well meaning poet's seemingly endless journey, if a comment request it etc.
Mounds vs. Mountains
I am not a mountain climber
It just never came to pass
that if I wrote
A singles ad I could truthfully say I was
A Mountan climber.
It still hasn’t come to pass that I’ve written a singles ad
And for that I am grateful.
I’ve hiked, sure.
Who hasn’t and
Maybe some were mountains
But this poem is about how
If I were a mountain climber
I would only climb Everest
Why climb smaller mountains
When Everest exists?
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