Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i grow fatigued
the endless confessions
the tedious postulations
the bloated self-indulgence
that leaks from this pen and that
makes me want to swear off poetry
and take up knitting or pasta design
perhaps a ravioli afghan or a scarf linguine
something practical - maybe even edible
cause the word just ain't cutting it
i haven't the faintest idea what you like
or where the hell your head is at
it's a fucking crap shoot with no payoff
an award, maybe
oooh - a prize!
at the bottom of a box of crackerjack
nestled against a random peanut

an afterthought:

if ever i thought i was fatigued
i was sorely mistaken, that was just kid stuff
the fatigue i feel now is of a higher order
and far surpasses the fatigue which
i spoke of in earlier poetic musings
just thought you should know

addendum:

i grow fatigued... again
the obligatory nature of social interaction
is demeaning and tedious at best
i long for the old days
of blunt brutality and heinous,
inappropriate retribution -
provoked or otherwise,
it's more honest, more satisfying
barbarism is under-appreciated
and will come into its own
if we embrace it and keep an open mind

postscript:

did i mention that i've grown fatigued?
hmm... i believe
it was just the other day,
perhaps i am mistaken though
if i did - i was, if i didn't - i was too
now that we've cleared that up
we can get down to business
IF, that is what you choose to do,
doesn't matter to me one way or the other,
you can do whatever the hell you want,
live and let live - that's what i'm talking about
so don't hassle me man
can't you see i'm trying to write something?

appendix # 1:

tried to write something
but didn't have it in me
why open that can of beefaroni
tedious metaphors, spiral and contort
like the dna of inbred aristocrats
wasn't that in you last poem?
how kind of you to notice
if i had my druthers
i wouldn't call it druthers
i'd call it something else
but i don't have it in me
so druthers will have to do
i grow fatigued... again

appendix #2:

i grow fatigued of fatigue
i long for the days
of freewheeling anarchy,
to pull a harpo out of my hat
flinging memoranda and office supplies
and chasing girls around desks
"but i just want to touch you..."
i'd throw a pie if my greed
and hunger would allow it,
but my stomach precedes me
and there's work to be done

BRILLIANT !!!!!.....the best thing I've read in ages.....hysterical ennui served up like a steaming pile of scarf linguine.....too much good stuff to mention at the moment, but I may return.....an epic journey, dinomeister.....

endless confessions yes! i jus' love a good ol' fashioned romp ! anarchy! anarchy! crap shoot! crap shoot! let it roll pull all the triggers! the better the badder. yes yes up way up all the way up with blunt brutality & heinous inappropriate retribution - they ain't no better way! barbarism & all it's cousins welcome at my lodge any day & night! Bonfire! Bonfire!

this was a good breakfast Dino, helped myself to the meat on the bone. i ain't going down without both hands full of tomahawk language and an open mind cause inappropiateness and blunt brutality begins at home man this thing was loaded! the life is in the blood says an old book and I wanna see the blood ! I ain't no mystic ninja parting the dark but an honest assassin plain & simple and words are not servants - they are slaves! and I say crucify the lot of them on the road to Rome!

just for the hell of it. howlin' & barkin' - that's the ticket!

did i mention i enjoyed this?

I am fatigued
(and it´s only wednesday)
streets glued in black again
stressed & afraid people wanting peace
& to stablish limits just where it isn´t possible
and yeah,
design pasta & knitting
can also be good metaphors
for today

basically, I enjoyed your poem constantine, gracias!

grazie, i miei amici. originally, they were separate pieces, though i knew by the second poem that there would be a series. i combined and arranged them yesterday.

ah, the existential fatigue...

maybe a good fernet?

"Excellent", "brilliant"

I'll drink to that

flowed as if you gave it no thought at all


>>>>>>>
patterson park high class of 1959
it was pretty square, I only knew one guy as hip as you.