Metapoetry
By Cynicism101
The narrator smiles and starts to think: I wish I could star in, again and again, Something coherent that really makes sense, None of these modernist fractual images. None of these fragments of sentence and thought None of that chaos, none of that fault Repression is not for me. The author smiles and starts to think: I'm starting, I'm staring to lose that line Of structure and fracture and goodness and right Of technical ignorance, flat rhythm, no rhyme And what, I ask, can follow that? Is it so hard to communicate? What do I do when the movie ends? Written March 14th, 2002 © on Mar 14 2002 01:21 PM PST 0 • 10
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"The narrator smiles and starts to think:..."