I tried to pull poems from the air
Like a radio-- I thought
If I only fiddled with the dials enough,
I would catch the Poem Station.
Poems 98.7! All poems, all the time!
i'm a postmodern poet,
the worst kind.
My Forbears never Heard of Radios.
They mined Poems from Deepest Earth
With Pickaxe and Shovel.
Clangs the shovel, steel flashes. Rubble everywhere.
but i'm a postmodern poet,
the worst kind,
and i can't stop messing with the dials.
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4 comments:
Very cool.
That's exactly how I feel when I write a poem, and then go read Dickinson, Tennyson, Szymborska...
like they are miners, and I'm a dial flipper. You nailed it.
And I really like that lower case i in the title. Now isn't that the whole point...
More, please.
Great poem.
I love poems like this that really strike at the heart of something. I greatly enjoyed it. As the Queen said, "More, please."
Yes, a truly "post-modern" poem. I particularly enjoyed the last three lines. To mirror the sentiments of the rest of the commentators: "more, please."
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