No One Listens To Poetry (Last Poem)

Following a broadly nihilistic, Pinteresque poem entitled ‘Vacancy (Inevitable Paradox)’ though I can’t post here (or anywhere) due to Foyles Young Poet submission rules, in which I deconstructed (or at least attempted to) the underlying emotional aspirations of the poet to insufficiently allude to the feelings that inspired the work through the inherent flaws of poetry and perhaps language itself (Wittgensteinian, almost?). Furthermore, that the ‘border between life and art must be erased’ as Ben Lerner cites in the video below, ‘that the only meaningful poetic gesture would be to get rid of poetry altogether.’ Admittedly he describes this lofty (or not?) sentiment more far more eloquently (hence quotes) and, although this is no excuse I’m currently mentally purged, ravaged from exhaustion.

This video from Ben Lerner speaking at the University of Chicago greatly coloured my current state of mind, though not entirely: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=65Vbn8vl9YE&feature=plcp

I just want to write something. Something else. That’s all. And perhaps these ennui-ridden ideological-ish reasons only serve to cement such a feeling. This poem, if I can still call it that, or effort ultimately puts the nail in the coffin. No more poetry for me.

I’m not looking for the scale of my ambition to match the scale of my notoriety, because, there is none here. Honest. I want out.

 

No One Listens to Poetry

 

Fear is a prison

Can’t write prose

Can’t be with those

That I adore

So I’ll write some more?

No one listens to poetry

 

Escape like canary

As I explode the mine shaft

May these words find you

Humble as they are?

No one listens to poetry-

 

Roman-a-clef- 

And the street sweeper called Jeff-

No one listens to poetry.

 

Unaccounted countenance-

Faceless faces at the station

Only one remains

(And it’s not mine)

 

 

Is resolution facile-

Poetry is a failure?

A windy, tumultuous day-

leafs the pages of the notebook.

Nobody listens to poetry.

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