Posts: 40
Threads: 14
Joined: Sep 2011
"Shit, I'm Channeling Harvey Pekar"
Last night, (watching American Splendor) fighting
whateverthefuckcoldorflu is trying to kill me
this time,
I wanted to drop a dime on those other dudes who are
riding my name,
that others call the same thing they call me,
wanted to see if they are legends in their own minds,
find out if they are poets
or other sorts of cancer, like lawyers or chemical
engineers.
Late, (fated to channel Harvey Pekar again) I
fantasized about the crematorium
again, and
wondered why my misery is insufficient for my own
Letterman or Crumb to plumb my
depths,
because what the world needs, really really needs
is another pretentious, prosy,
navel-gazing poet
like me.
But, see, tonight Fear and Loathing is on, and the
stars will obscure the bats under my
hat,
and obscurity will seem irrelevant.
I'll jump on a train or a red convertible, a rocketship
to some hidden and paisley-draped
Ameriky or Rockland, climb the
Big Rock Candy Mountains,
clear to the Puschcart Prize:
that's the ticket!
At least, it's finally snowing.
Posts: 1,568
Threads: 317
Joined: Jun 2011
After I started writing seriously, it took me fifteen years or more to finally call myself a poet -- and the two reasons for my reluctance were the ones I find right here in your poem. One, I'd seen the kinds of people who called themselves "poets" and really didn't want to be associated with them and two, nobody really needed to read any of the shit I wrote so why inflict it on them? I've since learned that those are two of the least unique and interesting things about poets, who as a breed are nowhere near as unique and interesting as they/we think they/we are
BUT, sometimes a poet will talk about terribly dull things in such a way that they become fascinating and mapping through your movie choices (
great choices, by the way) has shifted relatively mundane ponderings into an entirely new realm of enjoyment. I'm not at all sure I'm making much sense, as it's 5.20am on a Saturday and I shouldn't even be alive yet, but the upshot is that I think this is terrific.
In S2, L1 should it be "those other dudes
who are..."?
It's damn good to see you posting again Rob
It could be worse
Posts: 239
Threads: 40
Joined: Jun 2011
The occupation that dare not speak its name...
Last verse seemed v fluent, and capped the earlier doubts and musings v well in quite different tone.
Posts: 5,057
Threads: 1,075
Joined: Dec 2009
1 love the title.
the rest is also enjoyable.
about the poet content; I've been one since i started
writing it 12 year ago.
i doubt i'll ever be a good one though
and that's it about poets, they tell you there a poet but never say
"yeah, I'm a poet who's crap at poetry"
because what the world needs, really really needs
is another pretentious, prosy,
navel-gazing poet
like me.
a veritable hammer.
some good sonics in the piece, no suggestions on how to make it better, i found it good to go you navel gazer
good to see you on the boards
Posts: 1,827
Threads: 305
Joined: Dec 2016
"Letterman or Crumb to plumb my
depths,"
seemed a bit forced, but that was the only negative, the rest rode along quite well.
"find out if they are poets
or other sorts of cancer, like lawyers or chemical
engineers."
Very nice sort of Stream of Crumb Consciousness.
Ditto Leanne.
"I
fantasized about the crematorium
again"
Nicely edgy.
A strange thing to go off on, but funny!
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
