Attending A Poetry Reading At The Local College
What good does poetry do? Can it stop the
wailing of the tormented? Can it end
the continual political slaughter of
millions from war, starvation,
abortion, capital punishment, racial
genocide, or territorial domination?
Poets still sit in the coffeehouses and
bars in America,
talking like badass street fighters,
though few
have ever thrown a punch
and probably wouldn’t know how to make a fist:
publishing in the
little mags only
they read, and,
to each other. They’re
content like everyone
to get drunk and
talk shit.
In other countries they lined poets up against the wall
and shot them down
like wooden ducks in a shooting gallery
or imprisoned them like wild animals
for speaking out against
the State,
for publishing poems of
protest
and dissension,
for standing up
for truth
and human
justice.
Poets in America suck on the tit of academic,
curdled lies, defending the “artistic freedom”
of submerging an image
of Christ in a bottle of urine.
*Reprinted from Doug's book: Transmissions From The Underground
Watch for it at deadbeatpress sometime in February 2009.
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3 comments:
this is fucken good material !
Awesome work! What a strong ending. I love it.
Doug
I love your scathing, dismissive view of academic poetry. Your last stanza is brilliant. The poem is almost as vituperative as 'bad ass internet poets' I read a few months ago in Zygote.
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