Wednesday, December 12, 2012


Poems are an old window
to an old world that's all
but meaningless,
the poet has been
meaningless for 100 years
or he's/she's been dying for that
long--worrying, cracking
bursting with nothingness
and everything-ness finding
poverty and society are
standing in the way
so sitting alone on rooftops
needing not screens or glass,
howling at shit-stained moons,
drowning in the cold fog,
the poet is the great
anachronism of life,
the poet is ever-wanting and free
and never wanted and

1 comment:

  1. Excellent stuff. I relate to the sentiment a lot or a little depending on what my life is doing.