March 25, 2011 § Leave a comment



uninterrupted thinking is what leads a person maybe
to write poetry that comes across as inexpressive
or sedated
and then later to mumble the poetry into a microphone
to a crowd that feels unaffected and has other thoughts
and licking your face
is a sensation poetry cannot reproduce
but fuck nature I rejected nature
a while ago time makes me cry
and the poet mumbling his poetry to a bored audience
has yet another poem fuck me
if only
the meaningless sound of a doorbell
would come out of the mumbling poet’s mouth
to make him realize
his true purpose, which is to hide in a tool shed
somewhere in the vicinity of mary oliver’s face
and maybe listen
to everything being said and not said
by irrational people with spiritually clean hearts
altering his perceptions
and allowing him to view poetry as a wound bleed yourself
or else as an acid bath for his thoughts
or something metaphors make me cry
and what the mumbling poet wants to express the most
is something clever and perceptive
using stupid terms
but poetry can only be written at work
because of the constant interruptions
and the odor of a new tube of toothpaste is enough to make me cry
and telus mobility billing is a sensation poetry cannot reproduce
and I keep thinking ‘I am going to date a fine arts student maybe’
and being waved at from a distance by someone is enough to make me cry
and the center of my life is the hole I have yet to punch in my wall but I will
and the internet is a black hole that I contribute to expand
and poetry is inner life rescued.

-guillaume morissette

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