#soundbites #cutit



The poetry stuff

gets old after awhile

and the commercial blurs

our imagination

Don’t you get it?

The soundbites just

don’t cut it anymore;

the wasted motions

and the terse excitement

clever juxtaposition;

Hot damn!

I done got it

and my pidgin English

gets renounced

as illiterate

with all the self pitying rock stars

whining and crying

about the desolation;

just what a young guy

flipping burgers at McDonalds

for minimum wage needs

and Kurt Cobain couldn’t get off

on 19 minute jams

and the desperation of a generation

echoed in a single gunshot;

the cultural horizons

Indian artifacts in Chile

and arrogant Congressmen

protect me from myself

I can’t really hate America

because I am America

I’m as much responsible

for its creation and demise

as the next guy

These are my motifs

that I’m burning down

I think I’m a good poet

It’s been said

that’s my great undoing

The dreams occur

before I go to sleep

and the nightmares begin

at 7:30 AM

the sleep is merely rest

and nothing else happens

Yes Doze, it knocks you out

but sleep will come

and so will success

and consciousness

there’s no stopping us now

as we ply through

the political umbrage

of the 20th Century

I stepped out

from behind the safe confines

of my comfort zone

Life is really a dance with chance

I’m hanging out

smoking pot

and listening to Allen Ginsberg

on compact disc

but I ain’t a homo

and I ain’t a stud muffin

and I ain’t very lucky

playing in this game

da breaks is falling

against me

and a few clever word turns

ain’t bailing me out

this time around

The average time span

or attention

or what not;

my catchy paraphrase

or my savage cynical wit

hanging in the tree of woe

and wondering if any

good poetry

is gonna come out of it

I have sinned

I have forgotten

from whence I cam

and the Zen Koans

don’t make sense anymore

and it’s alarming

how it’s managed

to reach this point right now

in the middle

of this perpetual journey


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