Why Poetry Bounces Off Old Guys [To Be Read From The Bottom Up]

Poets, know we never wanted that

Not even a poem can knock us down

but we got what we got; we stand ready

Old guys don’t have as much inventory

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is about what you’re not holding now

at the exact same moment, and poetry

we all want two opposite things, always

And I have a secret for you. I believe

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in such a way that it’s newspaper true

I was more than me because you said it

10 or 12 more ghost feet to my height

the invisible things that maybe brought

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I know have added to my life, safekeeping

All the poets I never heard, never read

their bitter hot tests to wake you up

squishy and sweet. Poets are coffee

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but I love all poets like saltwater taffy

and they got to be hardened steel

Old guys maybe lived on the anvil

a poet is like getting cooked alive

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becomes a heartburst of love. Being

your truck, and lied in divorce court

upside down--the ex-wife who stole

We’ll watch it end first, so it flows

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like a horror when it all departs.

how do poets live? Beauty hurts

of my last consciousness. Tell me

will collide in noise over the cliff

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“You’ll be Niagara Falls.” Memories

Hope I do What would a poet say

volume of gone Hope I don’t feel it

My fear is the poetry of that moment

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then appear for welcome embraces

until you’re finally empty. The dead

of flowers that drop one by one away

that feels wonderful. Each an armful

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it’s goodbye to family and friends, love

terribly visible, as you die annoyed, then

You read what’s not been crossed off

list wallpapered to the inside of my head

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There’s a lot left to do, and it hangs there

fear of dying, but more running out of time

If I drink too much, it’s not that old feverish

and one by one, I stared all but one down

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I started this world scared of a lot of things

because you can’t ever match it in happy

Listen, you can’t be sad and sad for long

we stay happy after a good car camping trip

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I shortened mourning to same number of days

it’s all just ticks of the clock that I was born in

Bad times have come, and they’ll come again

I can’t fall down, or hesitate. Can’t get sick

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But, people need me. CASH NOW. No moods

I have a lot? Well, the sun comes up, and I go

I’m out of jail with no threat of going soon

car that runs, money for food and beer, plus

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Ah, how can I explain if I’ve a place to stay

Get compact. When you billow out, you’re cut

Streamline it, man, to carve a sense of control

Just love what you have when it all stays put

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because their length extends right into trouble

We stop believing in arms to reach out and grab

my teeth must be spring-loaded to have any left

Been kicked around by so many people I trusted



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