What if I talked to you?
Take away this veneer,
It’s ugly anyway.
What if this poem was made for you?
And everyone thought the same thing.
They’d miss some details, sure,
But it would that still have meaning?
It would still mean something.
But we like our art to feel like it’s speaking
Directly at our head. Then, like a loaded
Gun – BOOM.
Something like that, anyway.
But maybe that’s just egocentric,
And really the best poems were
Never for us at all.
They were for the crestfallen author,
Who I have now usurped completely
By stealing their beautiful work
And tacking in up in the chambers
Of my heart!
I’m a thief!
Well, okay,
I’m overreacting.
But what I am saying,
And I think this is important,
Is that we always want to be a part of everything.
And the greatness of humanity, or even the smallest
Artist painting, can exist without us.
We need to remember what it’s like to be a dinner-guest
And to have a healthy-sized portion.
To sit at the table of art and not gorge
On our own importance, or our taste
For tragedy. To remember that you can be
Hungry without over-stuffing.
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