Ars Poetic^ 2.2

My poetry?
It’s like Big Bird
walking into
a bar

and (after a few successful strides
towards the water fountain)
tripping over a canoe
that just happened to be there

before brushing himself off
catching your eye
at which point

you’ll both become quite speechless
though after a few seconds
it is only you to (so suddenly) feel
out of breath.

 
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It was as if he was being externa11y cntrld, led by the vatic leash by which he was being dragged, more or less, like the maimed animal of a cruel god; dragged through some Keatsian Proverb into that psychic aether to happily serve God... Continue →