i wonder if many poets consider apathy an asset
certainly Bukowski may have intimated the desire...
uglied down, drunk, and dirty;
he was never able to deny himself that one sentence in every book
which, without fail, brought the universe to its knees, weeping.
beauty is not a trait exhibited by the apathetic
pockets were weighted with riverbed stones
pilot lights were extinguished, heads placed in ovens
with intent and incidence.
with feeling and motivation.
these are words
what are they but a compilation of letters;
careful connectives with clean conjunctions
in abstract:
. stop a memorized telegram stop.
the delivery is not in song *please be sure to tip the messenger
most pearls these days are glass
i never knew June Cleaver as anything other than an arcane image in faded technicolor... though never in color...
from what i've pieced together, she may have known a thing or two about apathy....
the history of women has been marred by the means of rhetoric and
confounding bramble.
maybe it began with words
but i'll blame Sappho for the matter... regardless how minuscule her remains may
be...
i can deviate too it's not a secret we keep around here.
: to the contradiction
and each poem she lays hand to,
blessed be.
silver winged moth
graphite flutter shedding dust;
a bell jar is a bell jar no matter where it rests
it is still suffocation.
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