When some should scoff at imagined slights,
They counterattack like frenzied great apes
And wonder why their laurelled heads
Sit on silver plates instead
Don't forget the garnish
And some hold fast to unreliable memories,
Stretching them out like cherished aches
The entry of foreign objects, the art, the gurney:
How saddening to see what thrills these days
Don't forget the lubricant
The biology that motivates us, the alien scent
That compels us like a steady hand of God,
Molecules transmitted from one to the next...
Our nostrils determine our mates,
And life plods on
Don't forget the cologne
The echoes of whispers, brittle aspirants
Circulating within bundles of dank flesh,
The slimy folds that make music
We never ponder the mechanics of the words we say,
We only think of the words,
And hope they will get us laid
Don't forget the breath mints
Heed the beckoning bladder,
Beware the secret bulge,
Create new remembrances to stretch;
Don't forget the camcorder.
Author notes
I have no idea where this piece came from, but I thought it was good enough to warrant my posting it. I'd be more than happy (is it even possible to be *more* than happy?) to gather your interpretations of it.
Thanks!
- El Gio
Written September 12th, 2003
In a list
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Comments
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i think this poem speaks about how frequently we are all still animals. perhaps the first stanza is showing the reader how we all put up a facade of sentience, then the following stanzas show how little most people are actually themselves, how we are all sill animals, afterall.
could just be my interpretation though. i liked this alot.
ophelia -
I'm a very inexperienced poet having only started posting today, but I think I like it. It speaks to the more primitive nature of us as well as stimulating our intellects. As far as style and prose is concerned; I wouldn't have a leg to stand on as I said before but this is my 2 pence worth...
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