poetry critical

online poetry workshop

do not open until 2085

why am i smiling? (big smile, huge smile)
if i could explain the reason in thirteen thousand words or less
[and those thirteen thousand words not including the likes of “stellar, spiritual, rocked, glorious, epiphanic / epiphimatic, or fuckin’ A,]
i would be onto something
something, however, not
nobody reads (much less pays for) poetry, anyways
can you see that?
the way we’ve all been washed away.
the trees are huge stalks of wheat, and we are silhouette
[each face: a solar eclipse]
{can i send a video telegraph?}
“do not open until 2085.”
-and there we are again:
it’s much warmer than it should be,
or was, at least
we have our sweatshirts, and the songs and the chants and that damn good feeling of four cheeseburgers
(off the grill from under the tent) washed down with keystone light
(from the cooler in the back of the truck)
that sun. that sun i expect to see anywhere else, but here
it’s an emo album cover, it’s a promo poster, it’s the shot in that finale elegante (with that guy that acts quasi . . . french)
it’s that sun. it’s there. turn around and look.
as the pale yellow turns golden turns scarlet
and fields of grains turn to rows of cars and red dixie cups and charcoal spent
it’s an instance, past
so call me up in 2085
and if you ask me again,
maybe i’ll have a one-hundred-one word deposition
(but if you’re around too,
you’ll know
you’ll know far better than me)
on what it’s like to be there.

24 Feb 07

(define the words in this poem)
(8 more poems by this author)

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