Don’t worry, I’m not coming for you—
free verse poems don’t follow orders anyway.

They sprawl where they want,
cut lines mid-thought,
leave punctuation in the dust,
and whisper things they never explain.

They’re the friend who shows up uninvited
but somehow knows exactly when to bring coffee
and shut up.

So no, I’m not coming for you—
but if a poem happens to show up,
unshaven, barefoot,
mumbling your name—
well, that’s between you and it.