I want to miss out on the poem

I want to miss out on the poem that is dreadnight, the cull of the swan seeking warm headwinds, the primacy of the wind and the clamor of demons sticking around to see if the poem makes it through its dreadnight. I want to miss the cull of the swan, the flavor of the wind that stammers and bellows, the pirate acknowledgment, the filial paternalism. I want to miss the primacy of the wind that lulls the banal. I want to miss out on the poem that is dreadnight.