A toast to a lack of accountability (How do poets do it?)
Effectively, a poem I just wrote. Whoops.
I cannot write poetry. For the past hour I have sat under my blankets One thousand ideas, four tutorials, three not-poems But I've bound myself to the production of one poem At first I wrote about the words I cannot say Then the ones I hoped; slipping through a grate As a woman; As a girl Following my story all the way back to childhood Stories of the lookouts that make you feel so small Of a swing and an amphitheater, the song of gravel stuck in my knees echoed around Of long car rides, my brother in the back Of sinking to the bottom of a pit Of trying to make anyone see my art And the only words I currently get to write; I cannot write poetry. For how can something, as large as humanity Or as small as; some simile I cannot think, Be put into words And be spun into a "poem".
As always, also on AllPoetry & thanks for reading.
