Dear "Classic" American Authors,

You people have disappointed me
for the very last time.
I've given up on
reading your alleged
"Great American Novels"
and feeling nothing
but a bitter disdain
for your books
that rely too heavily
upon philosophy

And not enough
upon plot and character,
or sometimes
the other way around.
Yes, Faulkner, Steinbeck,
Twain, Fitzgerald,
Hemingway and Dreiser,
roll over in your graves
because I'm calling you out—
calling the bluff.
You struggle to be profound,
but what do you find?
Bullshit.
You do not know how to just…
Be yourself.
Live your life.
Feel your emotions.
Forget your agenda
and flow
from one idea
to the next
without analysis or delay.
When you are done,
it will be
the perfect work that you
never dared
to dream of.