Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Have the Panties Stopped Screaming, Clarice?
Sometimes when I am at work my head fills with poetry for no discernible reason. Flipping the pages of my notepad while cradling a conversation on the phone, I think, "the army of unutterable law has triumphed and truth is vanquished at last". I have to ask the person talking to me to please repeat that last part and I wonder: when poets are at work, are their heads suddenly filled with lines from sales reports or the current price of a yard of rayon fabric?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
"Always be a poet, even in prose."-Charles Baudelaire Think he thought about sales projections while writing The Flowers of Evil?
i'm with you fellas
My favoutite is:
Everybody looks so ill at ease
So distrustful so displeased
Running down the table
I see a borderline
Like a barbed wire fence
Strung tight strung tense
Prickling with pretense
A borderline
Why are you smirking at your friend?
Is this to be the night when
All well-wishing ends?
All credibility revoked?
Thin skin thick jokes!
Can we blame it on the smoke,
This borderline?
Every bristling shaft of pride
Church or nation
Team or tribe
Every notion we subscribe to
Is just a borderline
Good or bad we think we know
As if thinking makes things so!
All convictions grow along a borderline
Smug in your jaded expertise
You scathe the wonder world
And you praise barbarity
In this illusionary place
This scared hard-edged rat race
All liberty is laced with
Borderlines
Every income every age
Every fashion-plated rage
Every measure every gauge
Creates a borderline
Every stone thrown through glass
Every mean-streets-kick ass
Every swan caught on the grass
Will draw a borderline
You snipe so steady
You snub so snide
So ripe and ready
To diminish and deride!
You're so quick to condescend
My opinionated friend
All you deface all you defend
Is just a borderline
Just a borderline
Another borderline
Just a borderline
Post a Comment