ZERO SUM GAME
The very best stories are always apocryphal
or at least full of lies. Or better yet, two
lies & a truth, all indistinguishable
from little puffy clouds. That white one
over there looks like the shroud of Turin.
Or a b-day cake. Guess who just turned two?:
my pure, unadulterated hatred
of the way everybody says babies are so won-
derful. Love is not really stronger than death,
just more duplicitous. Prettier, too,
but beauty eventually goes the way of youth
& that situation is never win/won.
Monday, April 9, 2007
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5 comments:
A poem that attacks people's feelings about babies? Is there no dark emotion that you won't confess as casually as if it couldn't possibly matter? Aren't you ashamed? And why do I feel relieved?
If you feel that we've missed a dark emotion, please do tell us so that we can quickly address/confess it.
Oh this blog is fun. And I like this poem a lot.
Dang, you beat me to a comment...yr NaPo's have been among my very faves (last year too).
Babies are so wonderful.
Lies and truth, tales to lose
your unadulterated and full
casket situation youth.
You lied to a puffy birthday
cake, tho love is indistinguishable
from the shroud, they say,
and hate a rumor, apocryphal.
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