Sunday, March 28, 2010

I Once Said Something Profound

In my mind.
It was during my showering time, mind you, yes.
Yes, and it was on the idea of
Poetry in relation to the poet and the public;
What it all means.
I had made sense of it.
The sense that I make
Comes from spurring of the most mundane of moments.
Those when I realize:
HUMANITY!
It's here.
Like a movie, much like.
And the quote out of context,
it remained there kind-of-silent
Among my cells and rattling shells and such.
It didn't really move.
I never really move.
And then later that night, or morning, or some Time
(Relativity and time bear no correspondence in my mind--
Their letters are punctuated heavily and terse, terse)
I viewed a cinema film
In my room
On my DVD Player that doesn't work.
And it was entitled A Serious Man.
The film rolled along
mundane
mundane
Mundane.
And it seemed
Like I was peering into a life
That I should not be.
A Peeping Tom(ette?).
And I wanted to turn away
In
Disgust
Because I didn't belong here.
But I don't feel the sense of belonging anywhere:
Don't Get Me Wrong.
I'm not saying that
My life
Is a
Downward
Spiral
Into
An Inescapable Hell of Sorrow.
Hell no.
The sense of belonging I lack isn't one that I miss.
It is inspired and ensued and ensured by myself.
Who would want to belong to such a breed?
Of insolence, of generation-seeking-heat-seeking missiles
And all they do is dissect and dissect the past;
And they fret and fret over the future;
And the present? Is no object to them.
I placed myself
Outside of that shindig. Thank you.
And so A Serious Man:
Almost seemed as though there was no point,
The entire story
Was just.. plotless.
It's one of those movies that will be churned up
In the paper two days after its release
With a title akin to:
"A SERIOUS MAN: SERIOUSLY DULL!"
"WE DON'T WANT SO MUCH SERIOUS; GIVE US ACTUAL HUMOR!"
"A SERIOUS MAN IS A FAILURE TO THE CONCEPT OF PLOTS, FILMS, AND EVEN REDUNDANCY!"
It's true; If you're everyone.
Those things:
The pointless courses
And the outlines
And the stupid monkeys that sit on house tops
And sing songs 3,000 years old.
"It's all stupid, Mama!"
It's true; If you're everyone.
Don't... Try to make sense of these things.
And take them
Into a perspective you don't hold.
You can't hold the world;
You are not Icarus.
Icarus?
I only have one short story to claim
As my own.
And it has no point.
I don't think anything
Does
Unless you will it to.
And I will it to.
I will, too.

But anyways;
I have no recollection
Of that profound thing I said
In my mind.
Or any of the aphorisms of the same genre.
Parchment of the soul
Is not even of the same make as
Parchment of the pen.

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