Tuesday, 01 September 2009

   

 

POETRY 

The profoundly dysfunctional,
The professionally unhappy -
There's a fee I don't want to pay
To enter that particular Parnassus,
Though everyone who enters
Gets to be a genius. 

Nor do I want to be captive
There in the quarry,
Bellowing my pain,
Hurling metaphors like boulders,
Using the sticks of dynamite they allow me
To blast great chunks
From the granite of language. 

Better to be passing through,
And passed through. 

I eat life,
And shit poetry.

 

       

This site was last updated 01-09-2009