Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Excerpt From My Red Hardback

Happy New Year!

Check out the new release by Sad Sad Bicycle, Broken Wing, available here at this magic click of the button!

excerpt from a book of poems-in-progress, I'd like to finish and publish one of these years:

(damn, I hate when I'm trying to type something from a book that's written long-hand, and the book won't stay open, so I place some object on it to keep the cover from closing, and then the slick object slides off, so finally I balance it all like Philippe Petit (not quite that good))

Poetry doesn't sell
I heard the proprietor tell
especially from the new and unheard of
only the classic poets
and not even they sell all that much
so I hear
though I believe it
These days, everything is "free,"
generally speaking,
for the common man is a pirate
A casual, internet tune thief,
f'rinstance,
though even I hail this D.I.Y. network
and contemplate notions of a gift economy
even I believe that sharing is good
though it can complicate matters 
for sure
Nowadays, everyone is "famous"
and what really sells
besides necessities (so-called ones)
and addictions?
Entertainment and recreation?
Does everything have a price?
Can you really sell your soul?
Some things are priceless
Who could sell a cloud?
Poetry is like a cloud.


          ***


This is just one of many that are scrawled in a red hardback book that I began about
6 years ago and like almost everything else becomes part of the whirlwind, one of a
many-headed monster, so maybe one of these busy, busy days of busier years it'll be complete.

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