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Apr 2018
I either have a bottle to drink,
or a ship to measure
to tailored wood and arc
and sail and will,
    or I don't have a bottle
to drink, as smashed as one
might hear a piano fall
or a crescendo of chandeliers,
right before a maiden,
on an iron voyage,
       and all was to be well,
wed and bloated on
fairy perfumes...
    or I don't...
                     and indeed
                      the sinking ship.
of course people will always
read more novels than poems...
it's the only medium where
you can effectively hide repeating
yourself,
    not have an overstretched vocab.,
and, as most people
do, fly the economy class,
buy by the bulk,
     and not by the quality...
             come to think of it...
I have come to appreciate
poetry for one thing, an one thing alone...
it makes you a more ardent
reader...
                **** going
to Marienburg that's 12 hours by
coach!
    to pedantic of me to give
myself away to such a romance...
write a ****** poem =
     a doubled errancy /
ambition in finishing a book...
as ever...
                 the diatribe district...
writing poetry can only
make you a more ardent reader,
it was never about any ars poetica
or art for art's sake...
    I knew a guy once...
who thought he could write
poetry, and fiction...
turns out... he was much more
a fanatic of video games...
than writing books...
or what making love
with prostitutes does to you
sneering at the surrogate mothers
of paddington...
    bookmarks,
  come to think of it.
Mateuš Conrad
Written by
Mateuš Conrad  36/M/Essex (England)
(36/M/Essex (England))   
146
 
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