Question to ask somebody:
When you think, do you do as I do
and sing the words a little bit
to a tune you do not know,
nor to which you might not see
the next bars of on the score?
Do you like me swing low
over the phrases of this poem,
thrashing, gesticulating explosively? Continue reading “Why being the creative type sucks, an ironical freeform pwm.”
Lunch? No reply.
Appealing counteroffer: Park?
Ah, I see the game you’re playing.
Reciprocal response: cautious entreaty.
Drank the Kool Aid, too sour. Acidic.
Vision explodes beyond the mechanics,
The gears of our tacit negotiation.
Phantasms convoluting in a sea of trichroic something.
I continue, convalescing, regrouping into myself.
You’re still away in dream world, dancing impossibly.
Goading tease, you. No ruth of which to speak.
You, a water sculptor when you know my velocity.
Grey wad of disjointed something
Barreling toward my face.
Driving on 55 at near seventy.
At point of contact
A sickening Thwap.
Not enough mass for a Thump,
Though the volume of orange pulp
Which issued from your mouth
At point of contact
Indicated otherwise. Perhaps.
I’m sorry, little starling,
For what I did to you.
You are nonnative to these parts.
We didn’t know each other anyway.
I’ll wash my car and move on.
Inside the echo chamber.
Shouting match with the walls.
Friends, a blithe coterie
singing merrily inward.
To and from each other.
To no other but themselves.
Go forth they say:
Collaborate. Create. Succeed.
Make Possible. Live Expansively.
Fund and Incorporate. Drive and
Innovate. Rise above.
Seize. Attack ferociously.
Make it bleed. Sustain. Run lean.
Winter passes bleak and fleeting.
Spring’s promise: cloying.
A snowflake on a girl friend’s nose.
From on high, product of grey.
Fleet, it falls and fades away.
Failed accumulation: too warm for that.
God’s grace, you see. The glowing.
That ache? Longing for my April.
I bought a book of haiku last week. I admired its contents for its simplicity, a certain sparseness. They are bleak and uplifting, simultaneously. They also contain a universal grammar and reference structure which I’ve written out below in the form of haiku.
Exhibit of calm
evoking a grey feeling–
One delicate thing.