This. I wish this were a crucial one,
one you can’t wait to share
with friends who have good taste,
one that stops your scrolling,
gets underlined from bottom to top.
Meme-able, frameable, quotable.
A contest-winning, endlessly translated,
anthologized, sampled and cited
Holy Shit Poem.
One which focuses that idea
tangled in the weeds
on the outskirts of your mind.
Calls out your nonsense,
gives you reason to act.
Gets the whole damn room
snapping their fingers
going mm-hmm.
I wish this could sit among the Holy Ones,
share a glass of wine,
sing strange hymns long into the night.
But I know. I know
it’s just not there.
No heart, no guts.
Too cool? Too ironic?
Try sincerity, you say.
Maybe crank up the meter,
add a little rhyme.
Dear reader, I am truly honored
you have spent time with my words.
There is a universe of other things
we could be doing. The bills. The family.
Yoga. The pyramid of dirty dishes.
(And look, the sun is out!)
Yes, I wish this were a Holy Shit Poem.
Trust me when I tell you, dear reader,
most sincerely I do.