I feel so clear and rational that I begin
to reach for something to cloud my
mind: a fistful of snacks, a lager pint,
an online gossip. In that fog of chaos,
I find familiarity and uncanny shadows
which transfix and propel me.
Why is it that poet needs the confusion,
the dilemma of torment, the failing
brakes to create her edge?
I don't write from fact, I write from
feel, and that is why in order to reveal
such subtle strings I must peer inside
or out of the Pandora's Box.
BBC News will do just as well.
A night without sleep will summon the
fantasy. An eerie dog howl can mock
the sane.
Don't worry, poetry is always fictive.
The end.
copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez
Thursday, April 12, 2007
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