Today I am the pot
and I’m the wonton soup
inside it and I stir it to a simmer
over flames that I am too
and when it’s ready
or I’m ready
or the implements I also am
are ready
I will steadily consume
myself abetted
by a spoon
which bears
resemblance too uncannily
to me not to be me.
Psychotic narcissism
run amok? (Don’t ask
me whom I fuck.)
I stain
each thought and thing
to which I bring the least
attention so completely
that there’s nothing left
but my bereft
self’s sweat.
Or else it’s all untrue,
and I am you.
.
2 comments:
Enjoyed this one, Guy. I especially like the twist at the end. I'm fond of end twists, and use them a lot. In fact the president of Big Bend Poets commented once "your poems always have a twist". Although I have since disproved that label, I do still like them. Keep it up! I also like the title. Good job!
By the way, my poetry blog has been much updated, and now includes a general email subscription link, in case you're interested. I'd love to have you as a regular reader. Your insights are right on and very encouraging.
Remember it's called "Stumbling along the sidewalk: It's a bumpy world out there", and can be found at http://gsb3.net. Thanks!
Gordon
Just posted a link to your blog on my website, too. Love it!
gsb3
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