(my school friends clued me in):
most people are turned off by the word “poetry.”
most people are turned off by the word “poetry.”
It’s that hard-headed American
reality
test that’s applied to everything—
something we’re aware of all our lives.
test that’s applied to everything—
something we’re aware of all our lives.
“I too dislike
“it,” said Marianne
Moore—turned off by the word “poety.”
“it,” said Marianne
Moore—turned off by the word “poety.”
Imagine calling yourself a
“poet”: half
the people will dismiss you in
a minute, the very half you’ve kissed up to all your life—
the people will dismiss you in
a minute, the very half you’ve kissed up to all your life—
they write you off for
fluffiness and faggotry—
that’s why you’re so reticent
with the ditties that you make—your poetry.
that’s why you’re so reticent
with the ditties that you make—your poetry.
When it comes down to it,
reality bores me.
I’m putting my money on impossible love—
whatever hard-headed American reality
prohibits—you can call it “poetry.”
I’m putting my money on impossible love—
whatever hard-headed American reality
prohibits—you can call it “poetry.”
