belief, for TLK

 

 

THERE is no wonderland for Alice. Poor Alice

with her rabbit hole of fantasy, blue-book

of drawings for the coloring with crayons.

 

We are never in need of the colluvial, mythic images

or paintings where truth is erased just by using

different tincture. Concretism, as a poetic statement,

 

is the grandest lie.There is no cornered vision.

There is no truth in listening to the forest

by standing in the intersection of a dirt road,

 

or of imagining stars just by some old man

bearing pictures. Poets are all liers;

 

hunkered down by the low metaphors of dying.

Nothing is dying but the dead person on the side

of the road discovered in daylight.

 

Holding up truth to the light, like the coxswain steering

the ship Cleopatra, with the wooden hull to the shore

kleptocracy, where poetic status is grander than

the governed.

 

I believe in no kings.

No keepers of the keys,

with no headress for

the chosen.

Reviews

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlande..]

this peels the s**t out of the mind til there's nothing left but reality. There's still poetry, but it's on the floor now.
"Nothing is dying but the dead person on the side of the road discovered in daylight." Maybe I'm having an Easy Rider moment...whatever it is, I'm gonna sleep now....the book on astral traveling can wait til later. this was more important

[Emily B]

this is a master-piece