Sunday, February 5, 2012
But I Do Not Know and Do Not Know and Clutch On
Good news/bad news: 102 degree fever. Hate the sore throat, love the dreams. Better news: just bought three tickets to see Magnetic Fields in Philadelphia on March 7, smack in the middle of Planet's Spring Break, the three of giving ourselves a holiday in the middle of Meh. While Planet and I are psyched about the show (and I still have three tickets available for the Magnetic Fields show in DC on Monday April 9 - though there is horrible news: motherfucking DeVotcka is opening, fucking shoot me - if anyone wants to go with us), Earthgirl is excited most about Van Gogh Up Close at the Philadelphia Museum of Art ($30 a pop: holywhathtefuck).
SOME LIKE POETRY
that means not all.
Not even the majority of all but the minority.
Not counting the schools, where one must,
and the poets themselves, there will be perhaps two in a thousand.
but one also likes chicken noodle soup,
one likes compliments and the color blue, one likes an old scarf,
one likes to prove one's point,
one likes to pet a dog.
but what sort of thing is poetry?
More than one shaky answer
has been given to this question.
But I do not know and do not know and clutch on to it,
as to a saving bannister.