#poem #poetry #amwriting #tselliott

   today no abstraction from me
just what is - in this alternate reality
   we both drink expresso
and I listen as he opens the creaking calfskin reporters notepad
curate the velum pages
until he finds the poem he has been working on

    the english degree of certain age
shimmers in the corporate decoupage of studied design

    gone is the elliott
   gone is the influence of shiela

    now there is only transversive theory
where the words are redundant
and the poem is a series of gifs
that jukebox

as we must consider all possibility

   but where is the concept
I want to say
were is the juxtaposition
in a world of only genius there can be no illumination
just as
in a poem of the infinite
only toe-tapping nothingness pervades - an endless lift ride to the basement

   'but don't you see' he declares - pointing the mont blanc pen
       which his drop in a bucket
           which his new wave
               which his triumphant alternate future delivered
in the shape of a mugged small boy wanting his autograph
    'only when poetry means nothing can it mean anything'

this is beyond bad and good

though I check my absurdity
for no small boy was mugged

    and we continue
to jukebox
the possibilites
of the same tedium for eternity