Jim Trainer

no, poetry

In Uncategorized on April 1, 2014 at 12:04 pm

sweet as vermouth or arsenic
this
unsafe nostalgia
fool the heart
you thought you could
but poetry remembers
these fagged, jagged
dislocate thoughts
joined together on a bracelet
with candy hearts&ash
this spare change,
shiny quarters&a dirty penny
from
1975
you thought you
got out alive
and got over it,
didn’t you?
no, poetry
says you ain’t passed on
and
reminds you of what
can never be lost
again
’cause it’s gone.

these summer nights
come bringing her, too
smelling the sea
and dirty pussy
but they’ll only be embers
in the fall
on too small
nights of no poetry.

I’ve held on long enough anyway
this cigarette has gotten soft
I’ve steamed it
like they do
&
like we did
before homeroom in the
hated hometown
and in the cold buildings
for the rest of our lives
on the dayshift.

someone will always
try and tell you
that it’s intellectual
and leave inscrutable
masturbatory references
within their dead verse
but
no, poetry
says that when it all comes to pass
Plato was right
&all the poets will be killed first
and remembered last.

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