poetry, writing

past compare

Poems are comparisons and if you write too many poems everything starts to seem like something else. The trees, ringed with puddles, have pissed themselves after a night of drinking. The Hershey’s wrapper floating in the gutter, touching one corner to the concrete, is a fish nibbling at the reef of the sidewalk. It is starting to infuriate me. I do not want things to seem like something else. I want things to only be what they are. I want to release the visual world from the curtailment of my comparisons! Nothing is like anything!

To see a tree with a puddle under it and know it only for a tree with a puddle under it: that will be a new level of poetry.

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