the platitudes of willful resemblance

thoughts on midnight and the secret hero in 8 versions

 

 

1.

piles of unpublished poetry

and I feel like Emily D.

except there is no song to these

 

2.

most of the verse written years

ago in a 3^rd floor walk-up

an hour out from Chicago

when there was less between us

and moments were ours

without our knowledge or

at least without yours

 

3.

if this world was my will

or my idea – this

wouldn’t exist

and maybe never get written

 

even at 124 MPH across Colorado

before Denver

 

4.

these aren’t poems

nor one o’clock moments

of clarity

they are sleepless induced

narcotic psychotropic

overdoses

 

I casually wish I still drank

 

5.

right now

time is passing

but not without memory

and as I cannot say it is painful

you cannot call it hospitable either

 

6.

secret hero of my poetry

where have you gone

what have you been thinking

 

I cannot question now

as I cannot cope with the answer

 

7.

X XX

some kind of monster

and I cannot even look in the mirror

around corners

or close my eyes

 

8.

this is not a poor film

tho we all wish it were

 

–        10/21/2008 nearing 1 am