TO IGNORE YOU
To ignore you. How immeasurably sweet! Ignorance! Profound. Eternal. No complaint or complication (which follows whenever two roads meet). Ignorance surrounds me like a library of shocking books I...
View ArticleWORDS ON A FACE
The experiences we share,the already known,not only feeds, but is already, the poem.The creative chips away, reducing what we already knowto 'audience and show,'changing the quick years into moments...
View ArticleALL MY POEMS
All my poems say the poem isn't right.My ink fits perfectly into that larger night,vast, with no stars.We imagine the last road will have no carsand everything finishes in a wilderness.But nothing...
View ArticleTHE NEW SONG OF J. ALFRED REPUBLICAN
Intuitively, we understand the rich have no morals. Proof? Our first scandal arrived with wealth. That was me at 59. Home-owner. Looking back at 69, (happy, with money at last), my guess is poverty...
View ArticleTHE POET
An accidental meeting with the great man allowed me to ask questions about his poetry which made him look distantly at me. I was terrified of his impatience. I kept on, aware I was only diminishing...
View ArticleI FEAR THOSE WHO FEAR DEBATE
I fear those who fear debate, who, with elaborate fears, crank a mere difference of opinion into a gulf of silent years guarded by wakeful hate. I didn’t want to say goodbye! Nature overcomes with...
View ArticleHOW WRONG IS THIS? AND HOW LONG MUST IT BE WRONG?
How wrong is this? And how long must it be wrong?These published poems suck!Yet obscure my flower of song.Rosalinda, it’s OK.The brain struggles into the eyes.We are waiting for the universe to...
View ArticleTHE STUPID PERSON
The stupid person is a topic for poetry. No one should be called stupid in real life. The stupid person, however, is necessary for politics, institutions, and a happy husband and wife. Education is...
View ArticlePOE’S DEATH 10/7/1849
It was night in the lonesome October of my most immemorial year… J. Snodgrass and N. Poe, cousin, found him in Baltimore. They were the poet’s enemies, and killed him. The note from J. Walker (like...
View ArticleDEATH
To die is to be disinvited from all the parties, to wonder without wondering what the wonderful is. No one knows who is dreaming the dream, my life. Then why can’t my death be full of dreams? The best...
View ArticleWHAT HAPPENED TO THE SUNNY WORLD?
THE ELECTION Democrats, in 1972, were sure McGovern was going to win…because…the Vietnam War. McGovern was crushed because the majority didn’t care enough about Vietnam. In 2024, if the majority don’t...
View ArticleI DON’T WANT FREEDOM OF SPEECH
I don't want freedom of speech; I have nothing to say.Love was to come. But talk got in the way.The animals do it right. If there's trouble, they screech. I've seen trouble created by the sweetest and...
View ArticleALL SPEECH
Writing is conversation delayed.Speech that delays is dishonest.Writing waits to be paid. I'll speak, but only if I must.I prefer a song---oh it's easier when the frivolous is wrong.I let the phone...
View ArticleNOVEMBER FIFTH
As the apocalyptic, gravitational pull of November 5th draws hysterical Americans (and the world) into its vortex, promising to either freak out women who dearly wish for abortions, or bring tears to...
View ArticleIN THIS INSTANT OF MODERNISM
In this instant of Modernism,tense but casual,my effort at poetry goes way backbefore Keats coughed or Poe wore black,to Elizabethan times, taughtme as a clever erawhen sin, metaphor, and playwrights...
View ArticleUNIQUE
Common sense says we are the same— but you, the progressive, want to be unique. Stupidity leads to stupidity until wisdom cannot speak. “What is a woman” demands a stupid answer. I’m awake tonight...
View ArticleIS THERE ONE WHO VALUES POETRY MORE THAN LIFE?
I have been looking for you. A poet, magnificent and true. Is there one who loves poetry more than life? Every day, he wrote a poem for his wife, allowing the local news to have a look. An editor...
View ArticleTHE MATHEMATICS BENEATH
The mathematics beneath every sports result and leaf, is at the heart of my intelligence. Let the formal poem commence! A sly reminder of every belief, whether I vote, or write, or love. Fractions...
View ArticleNEVER SENDING ENOUGH INFORMATION
Your boyfriend and Michelle,quietly, quietly guilty as hell,never sending enough information. The weirdest attraction between me and you,not for marriage, no, just to screw,never sending enough...
View ArticleSCARRIET POETRY HOT ONE HUNDRED
Scarriet Editor is the most satisfying job in the world. We see articles published years ago (2009 to present) still read. We are not a news organization—nothing of ours is thrown away. Only its...
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