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THE ART IS NOT THE ART
The art is not the art but the world destroying everything but itself and what are we to do? I wish I could believe things the way you do. The art is not the art but sharing lunch at the museum...
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LIGHT DOES NOT SEE LIGHT
In total darkness light lives.Light isn’t happy, even as it gives.Light didn’t mean to get mixed up with heat.Light out-runs heat in the dialogue between sun and earth. Light is as fast as our dearest...
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I’M SORRY I WAS GOOD
History will not let us rinse our glass,Rosalinda. The dried content in the bottom of the cup?It must live there forever,flavoring the drink. They feel their truth, but it counters what they...
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WHAT IS A MIRACLE?
As I pondered reports of the world's corruption, how widespreadand wasteful,I was overwhelmed. Then, simply,it came to me.Good is a miracle.Good is another word for miracle.Evil is inevitable.(In our...
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POETS, STOP WRITING ON LOVE AND WAR
You are heroes navigating traffic, waiting for the bus, heaving plant soil in the Home Depot, talking to victims of freak accidents on shuttles, a camera man filming the Pops on July 4th came crashing...
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AFTER IT REPEATS, IT NEVER REPEATS AGAIN
Everyone wants what keeps repeating:Warmth and light in the middle of the night,Films which play for free and there’s always seating.I will be immortal, but I don’t know when.What is the soul?After it...
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WEEPING, UNABLE TO FINISH DOVER BEACH
When, in beauty, we grasp the world,it is always the beauty of the sea.All poets sound the same singing of the ocean.Reading from a volume aloud, Melville, Tennyson, Marianne Moore.It was all the same...
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POLITICAL IMBECILITY
Political imbecility is very easy to explain. Two things are involved: facts and emotion. In every issue (inevitably complex) not all the facts are available (for instance, we think C02 is bad, when...
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MACHINERY ALWAYS WINS
There is only one behavior which triumphs. It begins with unemotional poetry which becomes habitual in the questioner. The goal is simple. Do things faster. Destinations are laid out for us in their...
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I WOULD USE WORDS
I would use words more magnificent to make my poems more magnificent, why shouldn’t I? But not words she wouldn’t understand, I’d rather die! The shiny satin of a La Belle Epoque duchess. A cello, an...
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KNOWING WHAT EVERYONE KNOWS
Knowing what everyone knows makes us sad: The death of all of us; waiting for that. And the knowledge that knowledge, therefore, is bad. Give me the advantageous secret! Secret knowledge is the only...
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THE BEAUTIFUL IS NOT HUMAN
The beautiful is not human.For some humans, this is OK.A simple bench. I sat facing the harborin the early part of a spring day. A mile, or two, to the other shore.I was a statue (with only my neck...
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JERK
The impulse to be a rhyming jerk, Rosalinda, was the beginning of my literary work. The noble sighing of a Shakespeare play startled the day within my day and made my long night linguistic, turning...
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THE POET IS SECRETLY A NOVELIST
I can't believe I notice I do this. A poem I'll write raises questions,failing because it has too much to say---which forces me to write another.I write three poems a daywhich fail in their own unique...
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I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS
Why do they look to poetsto say what it means?I have no idea what anything is,except nostalgic, hidden feelingswhich occasionally use loveto say with bad poetry what my life was.Not only that, the...
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MADNESS AND SANITY
The soul is the human placewhere madness and sanity coexist.Who doesn't need madness? We all do.Especially the child who learns for the first time---do you remember when you found out?---all the...
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THE SAME INTELLIGENCE
The same intelligence, contemplating stupid things or marvelous things, is either stupid or marvelous. I am not smarter than her, but exiled here among rivers and mountains I construct happiness in...
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SLEEP LIKELY TO CONTINUE
The chorus of voices haven’t had a real conversation in years. When I was a kid, I preferred zoos to museums and coarse talk to operas. but I matured—is that the right word?— and prefer slightly...
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IF IT’S GOING IT’S ALREADY GONE
Whenever you see it approaching,time to cover up your lawn.Inspiration doesn’t work like that.If it’s going it’s already gone. This poem is really hopeless.It was years ago when I turned her on.I knew...
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WHERE’S WALDO?
The longer a civilization successfully flourishes,the more imbeciles—working within structuresbuilt up over time by the geniuses—can flourish.It was no surprise to me, then,to read the study showing...
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