it is hard to feign rigour when
poems are just zoos for feelings???/
my feelings hate poems
they are rigorously faint—
they come into my dreams,
say ‘yikes’ and then leave
my dreams are cranes
looming obstinate
in the pastoral landscapes of poetry
pete wentz came to me in a dream
and he said
i am the godfather of your feelings
i trapped pete wentz
in a pastoral landscape
and called it a poem???
i lifted my feelings with cranes
and they loomed in my dreams
pastorally faint with rigour
there’s something to be said
for ‘yikes’ not as a feeling
but as a poem, old as dreams
i trapped my feelings
in the dream of language
so they speak only in poems
pete wentz came to me again
and he said
poetry didn’t die
it went to live on a farm
?????????????????????
i want to faint into my poems
i want to be rigorous with my feelings
