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WHAT IF YOU DON’T TRUST YOUR THOUGHTS?
What if you don’t trust your thoughts? If you don’t, what do you really know? Your feelings come to your rescue: thoughts, say your feelings, belong to somebody else; in school they ask you to...
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WHEN I WAS HAPPY IN NOVEMBER
When I was happy in November, before December brought dark and cold, I walked over fallen leaves, never thinking of the dead or old. I thought of August wells and September’s visit to the farm....
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LIFE, IN THE END
Life, in the end, is a trick, and she is the one who fools you. Your life is more meaningful when you have a big dick but this makes you ashamed, aghast, afraid, because normally your meaning isn’t...
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TO MYSELF
Innocent until twenty-two, why did you get involved in that stupid grownup love? Look at you. You never had those manly looks to win a woman easily, but this was the woman you tried to win. The ones...
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MY DEATH
We learn this truth when we die. Life, not death, is goodbye. Death is on the other side where love’s mysteries reside. My death was strange: limited with an unlimited range. Every face I saw...
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NAMES AND YOU
In my poetry I use every name except yours— which, only to me, seems to be you. Others have their own names to reference and will penetrate with empathy my poetry study, for that is what I as a poet...
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WAS THE DREAM THAT I WAS SLEEPING?
Was the dream that I was sleeping? If so, that was a beautiful dream. If so, that was restful sleep. A parody of virtuosity, a great mockery of poetry and its feelings that sing and creep. Maybe I can...
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BECAUSE IT IS LIKE THIS
Because it is like this, it is not allowed to be. It is beautiful, Tom, but belongs to the 19th century. You studied poetry long and passionately, in college dorms, among rocks and hills. You felt in...
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THE IMPERFECTION OF WHITE PEOPLE
They like to do quiet things— serenades which are boring next to drums. Sensitive, ironic songs, self-congratulatory, not succeeding as music or story. The ones with ugly faces want so badly to be...
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MOST POETS I KNOW
Most poets I know wouldn’t dare to make poetry without music, makeup and hair. What poet leaves the house after saying unkind things to their spouse and drives in tears without knowing what time it is...
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GREAT POEMS SCARRIET FOUND ON FACEBOOK NO. 9
The following “Great Poems Scarriet Found on Facebook” essay was originally published in Outlook India on August 14th, 2022, thanks to Kushal Poddar. It was going to be sixth, but in terms of Scarriet...
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BY ROYAL DECREE IN MY ROYAL BED
By royal decree in my royal bed the history of her maidenhead means nothing to me. My bed is where the night stars gather when star under star sits on the sea. Why do we move and scatter? Racing...
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EVERYTHING IS AWFUL
All tournaments which excite the winner are slaughterhouses of losers, whatever’s new and fresh and sweet quickly becomes old. Everything is awful, if the truth were told. I am a loser if I mention...
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REALITY CELEBRATES THE VICTORY
It’s Christmas! Where is everybody going? Reality celebrates the victory, poetry mourns the loss. Poetry is better but reality’s the boss. We don’t care how we won, we won! We give it a name:...
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WE LISTENED TO MUSIC
We listened to music and that’s all we were asked to do. You did something more and it destroyed you. Why do human situations involve more than spreading art across the floor? You drew and listened to...
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AT THIRTY SHE WAS DIRTY
“Go and catch a falling star” –John Donne At thirty, she was dirty. At fifty, she’s thrifty. At thirty-nine she was flirty, slyly, with old men. At forty-seven, she made a run at being dirty, again....
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YOU’VE NEVER SEEN THIS POEM
You’ve never seen this poem. It assembles my sighs. You were having lunch and I hadn’t even written it yet. No one has seen this poem because I haven’t finished writing it. I’m not trying to be ironic...
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THE COMEDIAN
He doesn’t connect to people very well. He looks away and smiles. His rhetoric carries him away. People don’t understand him so he needs to get up there and make them laugh but once he goes up there...
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THE HUMILIATION OF THE FAKE GREAT
The humiliation of the fake great is the greatest greatness of all. Nothing conquers but is conquered. One distant guide will not fall. One eternal mind knows much more than the fake great knows. It...
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IT’S TIME TO STOP BEING SAD
What will they build? A park? Field trips and furtive sex. Shelley ran amok. He chased a lark. Universities urge the young to vote. The sustainable grins in a Black Lives Matter lab coat. Hitler...
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