Monday, September 22, 2008

அன் இரோனிக் உஸ் ஒப் ஆஃஉஇரெட் ச்கில்ல்ஸ் (An Ironic Use of Acquired Skills)


I felt a funeral, in my brain
when i am in poetics class.

i sit here
bored
waiting for something to happen.
i am tired of literal images.
i am tired of studying syntax and inflection.
i am tired of a windowless room.

6 comments:

I Can't Give You Anything but Love said...

your blank verse offends

when did it become
poetry
to write prose
and add line breaks
whimsically

you write wall posts like this
also

also
where did you learn tamil

Bernice said...

it is always poetry
to make art
if you say it is

i've always known tamil. i'm surprised we've never discussed this.

Michelle Obama Has a Rabbi in the Family said...

Also your tense is confused in the first two lines... but I support boredom as inspiration anyways.

Brautigan has your back Bernice:

"Death is a beautiful car parked only
to be stolen on a street lined with trees
whose branches are like the intestines
of an emerald.
You hotwire death, get in, and drive away
like a flag made from a thousand burning
funeral parlors.

You have stolen death because you're bored.
There's nothing good playing at the movies
in San Francisco.

You joyride around for a while listening
to the radio, and then abandon death, walk
away, and leave death for the police
to find. "

I Can't Give You Anything but Love said...

set
and match

zekethejewishsatanist said...

there once was a man named john mckend, who walked into traffic and that was the end.

Astolphe said...

I'm all for stealing
cars.