Said SprayPainter, A C.B. Poem [December 1976]

[spoken by SprayPainter on his c.b.]:


The contents of my Collected Poems is . . . one,
and I have inscribed it on this crumbling wall.

Not nearly as many as you have done---

not, not (I repeat), as many at all.

But your poems make my past and present tense,

and that reduces my reading experience

so that it is not as much fun.


[spoken by SprayPainter to his own soul]:


So I told that verbal jackanapes.

I wonder if he knows this is sour grapes?---

that I cannot write as well as he,

or that no one writes love poems for me?


Oh, gawd, my precious privacy

is given away, my secret gone,
I consoled myself with my c.b. still on.



Author's Notes/Comments: 

The grammatical error in the second stanza's second line is intentional.

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