We undermine not one but two
I shall not term it failure or success
like when a petit-bourgeoisie decides to read a little Burgess or Borges.
but they belong to those who used their lives to exemplify to us
what not to do
What not to write
What not to say
Not to summarize life as hope and rememberance
Not about your clichéd aspiration
or the broken silence of your emotional strands
fallen from your head
but they belong to those who used their lives to exemplify to us
what not to do
What not to write
What not to say
Not to summarize life as hope and rememberance
Not about your clichéd aspiration
or the broken silence of your emotional strands
fallen from your head
onto
the
half-eaten plate.
What not to show,
neither to friends nor acquaintances
Which is either sympathy or condescension
What not to suggest
Who not to collaborate with
Not to be always next to – ‘hanging around her like a bad smell’ (Bolaño)
Not to carry it with you when you are out,
What not to show,
neither to friends nor acquaintances
Which is either sympathy or condescension
What not to suggest
Who not to collaborate with
Not to be always next to – ‘hanging around her like a bad smell’ (Bolaño)
Not to carry it with you when you are out,
inside a bag like a street peddler.
No.
Don’t say they are poems or writings
Don’t self-publish,
no limited print runs,
no independent bookstore.
Don’t do the design and layout yourself,
don’t trouble your close friend to help with the editing.
Don’t say they are accumulated over the years,
Don’t say they are accumulated over the years,
from the last few years
in between your chief preoccupation as
lawyer, doctor, engineer, banker, teacher, politician, bureaucrat…
Or postman, policeman, fireman, nurse, nun, clerk, monk, bookstore assistant, administrators, painter, hooligan, traveller, prostitute… whatever.
Let what is old get old
Like the newspapers piled up over the weeks
The density of the stack
the weightiest of trash.
So Abel and Cain,
So poetry and journalism are separate things, separated like ‘twins separated at birth’
The weightiest of trash
in between your chief preoccupation as
lawyer, doctor, engineer, banker, teacher, politician, bureaucrat…
Or postman, policeman, fireman, nurse, nun, clerk, monk, bookstore assistant, administrators, painter, hooligan, traveller, prostitute… whatever.
Let what is old get old
Like the newspapers piled up over the weeks
The density of the stack
the weightiest of trash.
So Abel and Cain,
So poetry and journalism are separate things, separated like ‘twins separated at birth’
The weightiest of trash
is the least material of things, the closest to dematerial:
words.
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