I’d do anything to write a real poem, like in the lyrics of Al
Stewart songs. I get these books of Pulitzer Prize winners of poetry only to
discover they suck and write word salads no one can figure out—so they call
them great. Why? Because they paid their dues and became Ph.D.’s of English
Literature at prestigious universities. They fit in the clique, and I’m pissed
off about it. And it is no solace that Dylan Thomas and Charles Bukowski never won
a thing—and yet, they are the poets on the tongues of every educated American
and Briton. And let us not mention William Blake, considered crazy all his life—now
considered the most important poet of English Literature this side of Shakespeare.
Why can’t I write my “The Tyger”!
I’m sorry; I’m drunk tonight and pissed off—about all of this. God damn it! Fuck Tracy Smith; Fuck Charles Wright! Fuck academia poets, and fuck me…Good night.
Thanks for reading.