i was told that poems do not have to be any good i haven't written a good one ever since
-
on poems and writing poetry
-
the purpose of life
it’s hard to see how life could really be about anything other than just enjoying it
people who will try to sell you on being alive for a whole eternity
but I feel like they are assuming that being alive at all is at least some sort of net positive
and even if they imagine that, after this life end, the next life will be markedly better
they are still relying on our minds having some available cognitive real estate upon which to locate such a fanciful view of alivefor if we already enjoy being alive, before someone has even tried to sell us on an eternity of it, well
then I think there is nothing left for them to sellI think once we enjoy life and, I mean, actually living and being alive
as in, right now
right now being alive
I think once we enjoy it we can feel that its enjoyment has completed everything
we find in ourselves no desire either to speed it along or to stretch it out
because, at last, its purpose has been completely fulfilled
by, of course,
our merely enjoying it -
he asked
will we live again?
i don’t know
i said
but there is some reason to think sohe waited
it’s just that sometimes when i love someone
i get a feeling that i am them
i just haven’t been them yeti have seen myself in clouds and trees
and, i know, i am not them right now
so, it seems, perhaps i have already beenand do you love me?
we askedand we don’t know
and will know
we will know
eventually -
maybe they won’t

sleep
or smile all daymaybe they won’t remember
a single thing I saymaybe their letters won’t improve
maybe their friendships will come and gomaybe they won’t listen
maybe they won’t line up
maybe they won’t sit down
maybe they won’t shut upand maybe none of that is so bad
at allmaybe what they, and all of us, need
is just a place to be
safe
and know
that there is space
for us and every feeling and every
every need
and everything we bring
into today
at least
they’ll know (I think)
that here, they knew
that they had space
for every feeling
and every need -
good for
“I don’t have to make you happy”
it startsand every thought since then has been
“why not”and every thought since then has been
a tiny dropa tiny drop on the well established order of
“I could never make anyone happy”
& “I am good for nothing”I do not know how these became the standard model
(that is not my business)but doctrines of complete depravity
I do not think helped“I don’t have to make you happy”
it says& “no one is asking you to”
replies& what this respondent does not know
is that I already know no one
is asking for
me to doanything
for themas I said, they are already certain
I am good for nothing. -
I wanted to be a poet
writing at nap time
while the kids all sleep
but they almost never sleep
and I almost never write
even when they doI wanted to be a poet
rightly admired
but they almost never sleep
I almost never write
and when I do
I do not
admire
any
of
it -
how carefully he asked
how carefully he asked
if I’d be here when he got back
he’ll keep the feeling cards
to share with his sister
Mad
and Frustrated
Happy
and Sad
he’ll try to express himself
without huffing at dadbut in our whole conversation
of feelings and needs
of words we can use
instead of our screamsI still can’t get past
how carefully
he asked
if I’d be hereif I’d be here
when he got back -
my reasons to live expire
like ingredients you buy for a meal you never make
my reasons to live expireand I,
my blood and bones,
expire tooone just has to time it right, I think
to die before our reasons doI’d hold out longer
if I had any reason toI’ve run the calculous
over and over nowthat nearing me is painful
so what better way to keep everyone who loves me
at a safe distanceI have a language that I can speak
but it isn’t englishby the time I go to work tomorrow
I’ll forget why I haven’t quitI’ll wonder, like I always do,
why they ever settled for me in this positionand I’ll decide to do what they always wanted
but never knew how to ask forI can’t afford lunch
I can’t afford lunchmy lease is up
I can’t afford lunchthe descending lit up numbers of the elevator
I’m trying to see some daylightit’s overcast
I don’t know what to do with my cats
I’m trying to see some daylightevery crack in the pavement collects little rocks in them
I’m trying to see some daylightthe beautiful Nigerian on the sidewalk
we barely scrape some eye contact
they are barely not starving to death
no exercise of gratitude could cancel thisI’d like to starve to death, once
to know, finally, what it will be like
for the universe
once we string outthe shirt I wore is too warm
these big headphones, too warm
I want to starve to death
I’m trying to see some daylight
I can’t afford lunch
my blood and bones
expire
and my reasons to live
and my reasons to live
too -
“need” @church
“need” @church
decrypted means
some % of me
belongs some % to
them
& the crown I have to bow
to in gratitude… // say
“you made me fearfully and wonderfully
& broken and depraved”
from 1/2 our mouth “you love me”
and 1/2 “you hate”
and in one voice “I deserve it,
you despise me,
& I hope I live foreverthis way.”
-
i want to outlive every piece of art
i will ever make
i want to see its rise and fall
& if i should have any legacy at all
i hope to live
while it expires