November 18, 2008

poetry vs.

can a poem
really be written
under such
harsh lights?-
like war
like guilt
like a slap in the face
like a crobar to the kneecaps

can a poem
really slither
out of this mutter?-
just because i can not sleep
just because it's cold out
just because the wind
does howl and hiss
just because a headache
runs the show

—Abraham Gibson

Posted by dwaber at 01:09 PM

November 17, 2008

poetry and vision

poetry
lost inside
a weirdness
the wild card
chance, intensity
that crazy trip
that you can't
get out of your mind
and can't explain to
anyone with words
it echoes
in flashes
behind your eyes
reverberation
days of quivering
vibrating naked
with every hair
standing on end
static
crackling
filling you
& fucking
with world
dancing
antennas
& towers
built of
buddhas
& jesuses
ejaculating
all over
the fertile
fields in
time to
the music

—Abraham Gibson

Posted by dwaber at 02:37 PM