Tuesday, October 04, 2011

Untitled (An Awful Thing)

i prepare to do an awful thing


to scrawl (with ardent felicity)

a sentiment (of no poeticity)

(an inability to escape banality)


a sentiment (of no vitality)

(weather so still i remain unstirred)

a sentiment (of no continuity)

(bright flags falling in awakening)


a sentiment (naked of genius)


(for it is an indulgence to claim

a poem to be my greatest gift

when truly it is no more a gift

crafted tightly in triteness

no more a gift

for any of us

than sacrificial dust)


(and i plead your forgiveness

for inciting no revolution

(CASTRATE CAPITALISM!)

for blazing no victory

(EGOTISM HAS MET ITS END!)

for gaining us no freedom

(KNOW NOW NO GENDER!)

for sealing nothing really)


please understand (however)

a poem is

(should always remain

in absolute pristinity)

exactly what it is

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