confessional poem #2

[constantine]

in my last poem
confessional poem # 1
i didn't really confess much of anything
i talked about women and how shy
and completely ineffectual
i can be sometimes, then
i made a big deal about their
"intuitive powers" and then
i sort of flexed my mythological muscle
with an impressive, but somewhat extraneous
reference about the oracle at dodona
and the peculiar habits of the priestesses
going barefoot and never cleaning their feet
so as to always be in touch with the sacred mom-mom
i believe that was how i phrased it
so, as you can see, if there was anything confessional
it was purely subliminal, perhaps
my idiosyncrasies will pop out anyway
like a schoolboy erection that always seemed to happen
when the teacher would call you to the front of the class
or when riding on the bus sitting next to an old lady
it's there, it's not going anywhere
whether i confess it or not

[stilltrucking]

muscular poems both of them

I always think of Plath and Sexton first when I think of confessional poets, I suppose that is a put down of their poetry but I am not that hip, I learned a lot about myself from their poems, yours too. thank you for writing, I don't know what your poetry costs you to create but I am grateful that you create them.

The world is a mom-mom place
A real chic thing
what's a poor brother to do,

"bow down to her on Sunday salute her when her birthday comes"

Sometimes I think about you as a kid walking those mean streets of mobtown with that razor tucked into your boot

[constantine]

they are two of the best in that vein - i'd like to read more of sexton - she seemed pretty hip. i had an estiletto switchblade for a while - it was scary! luckily i've never had to defend myself in a high-test way!