Poetry....

Every time someone says the word "Poetry," or begins to talk about it, my mind begins to quote...

.

No mo po

Get down to bidnez

Po's a no show

Ho ho ho-- Good riddance!

.

Typewriters on parade

Walt and Emily rolling grave

Nothing left save to save

The Death of Poetry

.

It was a computer thing

A neuter thing

Belligerent knucklehead

Brat- art- teeth - shred

flesh- word-battery- nozzle

.

Blue metaphor- Carousel

Itchy- mean-grouse-rasp-kiss

Whatta life death is

The Death of Poetry

.

Dum dum de-dum dum de-dum de-dum de-dum...

.

It is not impressive that this comes to mind.

For starters, I always skip the first two stanzas. If you ask why, I don't know the answer. I can't explain. Secondly, I'm sure I am the only one who does this. A little further explanation....

The poem this is from is called "The Death of Poetry" by Bob Holman, but it's also an excerpt from a group performance I was in almost five years ago. FIVE YEARS. And that's still in my head. And as pitiful as that is, I can't help it-- I love all the material from that crazy little experiment of a performance so much! And I'm such a sap because I swear I'm the only one of the six of us students who was so affected by the whole shenanigan. I have no doubt in my mind that the experience changed me-- that I would be a different person than I am today, were it not for that script, that coach, and some of those people. Again, though, I can't tell you exactly how... I can't pin it down, but I know it's true!