Tuesday, April 26, 2011

National Poetry Month Disasterpiece

8:00 PM - 10:21 PM December 30th, 1999.  Here is what I was thinking the day before the Y2K doomsday that failed to occur:

People are the unoriginal sin
they lack the courage or imagination to be and do something new
while staking a claim of difference
       they fail miserably
       is just another -ism
a categorical way of defining a mythic idea
shrouded behind veils of mystery
meaning an
      autonomously not
      mono-polic person
An individual is taught by the same mediums of instruction
      perpetuated by whichever culture they are born into
in other words
     exhibiting the same vegetable intelligence a sprig of parsley demonstrates
monkey see, monkey do
Simon says
     See my genitalia
     I pierced it with a barbell
     I am more individual than you
A quarter million herd together the next day
     at piercing shops
     hoping to achieve
     Simon's same undifferentiated individuality
Like autonomous grains of sand resting upon a beach to be sat upon in the sun
individuated by form alone
each grain is shaped a little different from its neighbor
yet each grain is made from the same
     pulverized mineral, element, rock, or glass
'Tis the same with snow
     save for its shape or form
     ice, liquid, or gas
     water is water
people are people
accept it, it is true
Gender being the major difference of course
there may be two distinct classification for individuals
sheep or freak
     social or antisocial
     free or locked away in a cage
which would you rather be?
A free to follow Simon keep paces with the Jone's monkey-do sheep
     or a violent anti-social criminal locked away in a concrete box for life?
What is wrong anyway with being the same as your neighbor
At least to admit it you're honest
perhaps this is the only way to be a true


This is an example of what not to do in a poem. Tell an idea rather than show one.

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