Wednesday, February 10, 2010

It All Comes Out The Same

I am pretty happy with this one. There’s a voice here. It’s not really mine. That means, if I can do it again when I want to that I might even have a novel in me. I have always claimed I can’t do dialogue to save my life, but many of these poems are dialogue bound, headed that way. This one is especially so. That’s why I like it so much. Technique.

It All Comes Out The Same

I am not graceful
and you tell me to dance but
I'll fall on my ass,

so I says to you
that fat men can't dance so well
and you say so what
because it all comes
out the same in the end, hey.

That's what I mean, you
old fart, you just don't
notice who I really am
when you pass it on.

April 1, 2009 1:26 PM

5 comments:

  1. Oh dear....fat old fart? Snort!

    xxxxxxxxx

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  2. Oh thanks Michelle, you think he is talking about himself? I kind of thought it was a dialogue and he was talking to me.
    Still i would love to dance with you Christopher.

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  3. Well, I read it a fat man calling his God an old fart. Whatever. :) My farts are of pure essence. Never thought of as old.

    Jozien, I would dance with you, just not with agility any more. I stopped caring what I look like out on the floor.

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  4. Persona poetry is a wonderful thing. Embrace it when it stirs its head. :)

    Besides, this is downright charming!

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  5. Thanks, Joseph :) downright charming...hmmm.

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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