Metathesis

Fitting, this, on my birthday.


Metathesis 3/11

I wake up and think about writing long poems long
poems that will make anyone who reads them want to write longer
poems : Usually this is before I'm dressed and my balls are all
dangling from the heat of sheets and radiator steam in the radiator
After a good hot shower and a piss I will be ready to admit that that and
my own fear of long poems : The friction of verse against computer
screen the magnetics involved in it these days is frankly disturbing : I
mean look at this glowing box before you so full of
shining and secrets that I cannot begin to understand
how the letters get from finger to there anymore : One could argue that modern
writing is the most perfect form of the process the most blind and least
understandable the most like breath from muse to finger : That
could be made to be true I suppose : No one understands any process anymore
we could argue that this is the golden age of everything the last great age
here in my fingertips in this computer in yours : All this perfection
is tantalizing makes my mouth water to think it means no war just sex waking
up to perfect spring days year round : I wake up in the morning and think of this
not of the dangling sword over the continent of dwindling everything LI stand
in the shower naked and wet singing Nina Simone songs
and only think of good feelings in my roots