More than decoding trigonometry
in high school is how much I hate poetry
when it’s bad and still makes its way
like a laughing FUCK YOU onto the pages
of prestigious publications that promise
news and art and poetry for poetry’s sake.
Poetry for poetry’s sake is as empty
as a dry water bucket in the desert—
cold as a wet blanket on a chilly night.
Put down your pen if your words can’t heal
or break or stir. I don’t need to bleed,
but you better prick the skin.
DeMaris Gaunt
3-12-15
“The world is a hellish place and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering” – Tom Waits
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I love this. I love Tom Waits. He does “suffering” very well indeed! “Ruby’s Arms” is my favorite TW’s song. Yours?
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Off the top of my head, because it’s like asking one’s favourite colour, “I hope that I don’t fall in love with you”
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