Just because I’m writing in a long line of poets,
stretching past the pre-concept of horizons,
doesn’t mean I have to abandon lessons here
As I try to write burst on burst about the ball, But first want to consult the Oracle, a broken habit. As I try to find loose change, pennies to toss, “Wrong language,” he says, But first he says “Read 5 poems you do not know.” As I remembered it, thunder on thunder mixes it up, But first, before the word for sphere or ball, As I lay on a pre-poetics blue blanket eye caught, But first, translucent-round-sparkles, no language and not me! As I pre-verbal laughter, object on subject for first time.
Day 1, in the weeds y’all! Con/Jur/d, 4/1/2021
Create your profile
Only paid subscribers can comment on this post
Check your email
For your security, we need to re-authenticate you.
Click the link we sent to , or click here to log in.