Why is it
to create
I stay up
late
righting
the wrongs
I didn’t do anything
during the day
Why is it
I feel the need
to write
my poem
this way
so poorly digestible
clumped
this is
is this
contemporary art
Why is it
I say:
run off to France with me
as if our feet could carry us
across the ocean
My favorite
friend just doesn’t feel
the way that I feel.
about her:
“I may not be your kind,” rasped out by Garland
Jeffreys,
given to me by my dad, on Christmas, with two other
CD’s.
Why is it
the talking
can so easily be done by someone else
is this
contemporary art
yet?
January 9
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