Wednesday, June 20, 2018

You Were Garbage

Don't sit there telling me you understand.
You don't. You don't know anything. You're dirt.
I wonder why you figure that your shirt
Is filled with human tissue. It's just sand.
I think you stink. You drink, you sink. I planned
To tell you yesterday, but I was hurt
And you were garbage. I've become alert
To hot, cold, spice, and flavour. You are bland.

I'm such a lovely person, pleasant, sweet,
So full of love, with such a tender heart.
My generosity is just the start:
My personality remains replete
With kindness for the world, here at my feet.
You are a seeping drain. You are a fart.

Friday, June 08, 2018

Terrifying Sonnets

Unspool your unexamined memories,
Rewriting history with every turn,
Embroidering the truth, gazing astern
To watch the past fade, through the old, dry trees.
Emerging now, at last, from the deep freeze,
You want an audience to watch you burn,
Explode with longing, cry out, move on, yearn,
Write terrifying sonnets, too, like these.

Remember me? I taught you how to write
Without the imagery that others claimed
Your poems needed. I said they were maimed
By such distractions: clear ideas might
Stand best alone, without the sea, the light,
The spirit animals. They were ashamed.