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Sunday, March 13, 2011

Beauty is whatever Cost can’t be Forsaken

The fine art of desire requires
stitches in beautiful letters that’re
trimmed once and twice then five times again
before there is something called a Sonnet.

What is the point of talking about it?
Poetry so what. It’s actually weird.
I don’t want some of that crap. Me either.
Does it care that none hopes it appears?

--Consider what I ask myself a lot:
Poems are just a faster way to trouble,
and give enemies what they need to smear
me further. Why do I teach what demeans me?

C’est l’ars pour l’ars? Once again: Beauty
at whatever Cost can’t be Forsaken

This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

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