Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

drizzle

not much breeze

inside rooms throughout the city
egos
arbiters of the universe
that rewrite others' poems, stories

no social gesture goes without return firecracker of ego
all is illuminated by the self-promoting

wet remnants of newspapers at the curbs

rancor like a noxious gas
moves Eliot-like thru the city
that is not London
is not New York
is not much but a collection of old cracked brick

drizzle

whatever self-pride
shivers like a schoolboy on such a day
waiting for the school bus

that nasty wizened teacher
all red pencil and punctilious
all scalpel, saw, forceps, latex glove
hear the snap on and off the bony hand

the poem
that god awful stillbirth
lies on a cold metal tray
specimen for both the GREAT POET'S and school marm's
dissection

drizzle outside
inside a drip from a spigot
the regular iambic plop
of surrealism
the spinal cord like washed up seaweed
outside the moon a skull
the poem a moan
the imperiousness of criticism
the flat lines of the poem on the screen

pull the plug
the critic says
pull the plug
such trite bull shit should not live

and so

drizzle

a window
inarticulate mumbling
drizzle
a window

This poem was written some time ago. It doesn't apply directly to a certain other web site. I guess it originates from my own thin skin and argumentative contentiousness----maybe defensiveness. I have a natural inbred dislike of nitpickers. That doesn't mean I'm right about any particular issue or poem or word but it does mean that it gets under my skin. However, even after slapping the critic back, I can dispassionately evaluate the criticism and change or not change the phrase or expression of a particular line.

Why do I bring this up. Well, I know the poem may seem testy. I like the poem though.

the reading of one line does bother me but it should read this way----the asterisks being a slight pause as the word egos does not modify "city"

inside rooms throughout the city **** egos

many good images, descriptions that seem to address once again the role of the critic vis a vis the poet that has given of himself to create a personalized expression of a vision, only to have that vision stepped only by black boot....or maybe a jackboot ...

it's kind of ridiculous subjectivity in the end.....how one person in a place of influence can manipulate the world for their own pleasure.....best not to get caught up in it...doesn't mean a damn thing....create for yourself.....others may or may not notice....and that's Ok