Tuesday, January 20, 2009

ApologeticaeCharlaX


ApologeticaeCharlaX


Poetry
is dead the poet is dead the audience is dead. Poetry has died. A
flameless death. Dearth to poetry. Listen to eye eye did not make a
dancing bear charlax to compete with Monday night football on TV or
complete the poems on a time table for everyone to read. Eye did not
expect fifteen thousand hits each and every day and so eye am not
very disappointed. Who wants to go to Grave knoeing that he is
worthless and yet it happens every day a drunkard dies in sleep not
knoeing where they aer burying him he would prevent it iff he still
retained his strength he would fight off his attackers and pick the
best resting place upon the hill like any other gorilla will. Perhaps
eye will not even be depressed by thinking of mye own demise and
leaving all them poems far behind the people so confused the eye
namme no nammes the pennyworth of candy failed the libel and the
sorcery failed no fame on Broadway for a normal man prehappenstanced.
Iff eye opened up a thousand cans and poured water in them to get the
dregs off the sides and to get all the little letters of the
alphabets besides in soup with no regrets or angsts it would never
make a Chile mix but soup is what it always is. Eye am a Student with
many X in the equation. The program we are using does not recognize
the X. So the teacher has solution she said do not use the X. No
substitution. No you may use the Y instead. She expects the students
to think and act like the accordion. They call each other up the
conversation is abrupt they tell each other nothing. Each person has
to function. In this demonstration X is simply nothing non existence.
X is the Public Lieberry System. Giving nothing to the Public in its
namme. Control freaks getting paid. Perhaps they still use Cremation
on the remains of poor poets that they find demised. Eye do not even
want to think about that. Eye had a life. Eye became a poet. Eye
became a writer. Perhaps the Charon will still ferry eye to the
Elysian Fields to eat fruit of every tree forever without the two
pence he usually demands. Eye can lean on the oar and say sorry old
bean but they burnt me to a crispt. Nothing much survived but you can
shift the ashes in mye vase and find mye face it will still smile and
there inside the ashes where mye heart it will still say VI. NO not a
Roman Numeral but short for Violette mye wife. Eye must again
apologize.



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