Something Odd
Collage Poetry: Wednesday - August 13, 2014
Something Odd
Wednesday - August 13, 2014
Something odd was coming from the radio.
[His] running into the neighbors [is] mercifully improbable.
[He] moves with a slowness suggestive of irony.
not reclusive, but neither forthcoming.
[There is] a vigorous confrontation with the waning of life.
The impact is potent.
With the slipping away of that moment,
[and] the unstable nature of identity,
These subtleties have largely been lost.
It's funny how feeling has flipped.
There's room for all kinds of possibilities.
"There is no wrong" in art.
A nervy rebuke to the ubiquitous
art world’s attention.
Each was the audience for the other.
It is a bit sinister; it reminds [one] of cannibalism.
I never wish for critics.
They destroy everything
like a [bad] guest in someone else’s house.
Devastated by the alleged deception,
they hesitate to draw a straight line,
[and suffer] the difficulty of [not] knowing what to do.
A few were eaten by fox.
They made horrible sounds,
as if in despair.
In general, there is the sense of absence.
The memories of past events stuck together.
There is a sense of confusion between personal and anthropological meanings.
Think about the idea of something being cancelled.
There is a sense of abandonment,
there is a sense of melancholy.
If there were any question,
there is an introspective poignancy.
It may be viewed as a window
like a wild-goose chase.
Simultaneously dour and disarmingly self-deprecating
shaken by the betrayal
and the creases and voids
caught my eye
[while] taking a sip of tea.
Any similarity is accidental,
and what the opposites of that are?
An amusing irony in this case.