fact one: a poet can be prolific without achieving mastery, but I’ve never seen a master poet who wasn’t prolific.
fact two: maybe, maybe it’s the concussion I got,
but this ear-rung pain’s got me thinkin’,
‘bout what i ain’t got.
‘n maybe, maybe it’s the passin’ stories ’til one in the mornin’,
maybe, maybe it’s the rememberin’ that little adorable heathen,
the one who made my life hell,
‘n ended the summer with a drawin’ of me at his family table.
out there, somewhere, there’s some plot of land,
‘n these hands, no matter how unsteady or untrained they get,
they’re gonna build at least part of that house,
‘n leathered ‘n aged ‘n worn to shine,
with some great patient husky by the fire.
a poet’s gotta have dreams ‘n all.
maybe, maybe.
fact three: you will not find a better poet than me.
I am the best of the best of the least of the best of the top of the bottom of the sideways of the left of the right of the mountains of the fields of the sunday-morning papers/all half-price this week, offer good until September 24th, just $30 for seven weeks of daily delivery! WHAT A FUCKING DEAL! the best of the dog-food, the best of the litter-boxes, the best of the Macarinas, the best of the Saturday-Morning Cartoons/all new guest appearance by MR. T and the Smurfs! BRACE YOURSELF FOR SHENANIGANS! I am of the highest quality, the greatest caliber. I am the only poet you’ll ever need, ever need darlin’. I’ve got sweet words oozin’ from finger-tip ‘n rhymes in the timin’ belt of my heart.
fact four: I am not above fabrication.
fact five: there will always be people, however many or few, who find your words moving.
it ain’t a matter of taste or quality,
just how they’re feelin’ ‘n what you’re sayin’.
poetry ain’t no money-makin’ venture,
even the poets that make money ain’t makin’ enough,
so it’s more worth just sayin’ what you’ll say,
than writin’ what you hope the world’ll like.
fact six: I don’t give second thoughts to the gaps in our age, if I knew you was willin’, I’d kiss those lips, grab those boney hips, stories you tell, way you live, I could get on board with this.
fact seven: I don’t give second thoughts to the gaps in our age, if I knew you was willin’, I’d kiss those lips, grab those padded hips, jokes you make, cynic you got, I could get on board with this.
fact eight: poets are known to fall in love too many times, first with themselves, second to everyone else; any poet that denies this is simply having a fight with themselves, a trial separation. but it ain’t the one’s who don’t feel that feel the need to share it, that’s all I’m sayin’.
fact nine: there ain’t a poet in the world that’s mastered all the words can do, will do. Just keep pushin’.
