|
Poster on the Wal
|
an ode to werewolf a poet makes the extraordinary ordinary, draws attention to a solitude we can all have at anytime but most wisely ignore. a poet is as stupid as anyone who sees the world where it is not, who sees in a thunderstorm or in a fire, under bullets or heavy boredom, an inconsequential happening, a ladybug, an unaturally chipped stone, any of the things we faithfully call chance. They see a pattern displaced, and see themselves in that pattern, and are as stupid as anyone who offers their own body as a sacrifice to protect their destruction, because their own destruction seems their most quintessential creation. It isn't that they are more or less stupid, it's that they attempt to be heard, to leave behind a record of their idiocy, to distill it to a purity undiminished by the idiocy of others, but rather strengthened by it. from: poets_are_stupid
|
081108
|