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Write the Right Thing
I want to be able to write love poems.
Even though love poems say absolutely
Nothing.
The only thing worse is a poem
steeped in longing.
The man writing a longing poem
is the only true kind of failure.
He scribbles “enlightened”
play-dough clichés in a scattered apartment
Vomits syllables across a frigid page
and convinces himself that he is too evolved
to breathe clean air
or seize real affection
I want, desperately,
to scream
“Look!
at your hollow existence
and collect what you can of a real artistic voice
Realize that it is absurd
Self-entitled
Bulls***
To feel noble about
writing curses to your solitude
behind a locked door.”
Never mind, I want to write
Love poems.
![](http://cdn.teenink.com/art/Jan02/Door72.jpeg)
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Favorite Quote:
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!"<br /> — Jack Kerouac