I’m in the middle of a long, tiring posting. I thought I’d post a poem I may have posted before. This is because friend and fellow Austinite Brett Randell posted a nice poem that was wistful and image filled and sad. It reminded me of moving and leaving things behind and almost-cryings.
But this is the poem I feel like today. Because I am angry and pissy and creeped out and viscious. Perhaps it is because I am moving and there is still so much to pack. I don’t know. Maybe I still have a lot of practicing to do. I have a LOT to do. But maybe it is because I see so much STUFF that just …
… bothers me and I just don’t… SAY … anything.
Who knows these things.
So you are sarcastic -
I applaud, for never since
the dawn of time
has anyone accomplished this;
Perhaps one day you will be asked to host your
own sardonic version of what
nights like this should be!
Your tone suggests a firm hand,
it suggests that
we would not go gently
(and my friends
I hold my mystic cards of rhyme
So close beside
My own Vest.)
Incidentally with some restraint
I write of this …
and other small
but I hesitate to share them…
I cringe! I have already penned
your scathing crisp lampoon of me!
It is a pretest I have taken..
This exam of twists,
of course it leaves me shaken
I’m an offering of unwanted mincemeat now
at the great bright vegetarian buffet
you have created