Lack

[ellajam]

Hi, welcome to The Pig Pen. It's taken me quite a few reads to not be stopped at the repeated words and phrases, but I've come to enjoy the back and forth motion. Maybe I had to get my sea legs.

It's a difficult subject but I think the poem has that hollow feel matching the "not a poet".  Here are some notes.

I am not a poet.
I lack the substance upon which to write. So sad to be at that point.
I do not carry a messenger bag,
brimmed with spontaneity and colors. Clear, enjoyable image.
However, i dare not let my arm rest, for it will
crush what i lack. This interests me, it's like a ghost limb.
Under my arm hangs an absence,
a lack of substance. I'm not sure you need these two lines, you've just said it.
I pull file folders
with no labels and no contents The uselessness of the action is interesting, again a clear image.
and pull out of a bag that has no bottom,
bottomless.
Why should it have a bottom
with nothing to fall to it? These lines about the nothing into nothing, I'm on the fence about.
The grey file folders
have no rectitude ,no vice. I like this line, no blame for the empty. Fix the typo.
They leave me
in the same position they were pulled from:
bottomless.
They leave, leaving nothing to speak about,
but much to be spoken. Very clean ending.

I feel like the poem might have been written just to use those last lines, they have a different tone than the rest. I hope with some time  I'll know a little more about where I stand with this one, and hope these notes might give you an idea of my read. It's not an easy one.