Art has a certain pretension
which practitioners cannot avoid
sincerity can breed contempt
or doubt
There can be comfort in labels,
Power in definition
but what if the title is undeserved
and whose to judge
Is it quality, quantity,
or time?
Is it authenticity-
once the subjects of
heartbreak, nature, and the mundane
have been explored with graceful
and poignant honesty, then
one can, without doubt or fear,
claim the mantle of odist-?
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