Litkicks Message Board Archive

third person singular

Posted to Action Poetry




she's going back and forth now
from singular first person
to counting second handed
tries to find herself
inside of words,
dumb.
tripping past
the absurdity of miracles
waiting for the chance to
light a candle against the gust
of wind in a just
settlement
of the
grounding

expounding on
philosophies which
quite possibly may endure,
sitting silently beneath a tree
reading parodies and poetry
in unity with a voice she cannot
hear or see, singing in harmony
with the trees which lose leaves
and gain them back again
as if god had some reason
for the special plan
of seasons

as if the structure
of the piece would make
some sense, searching for
a voice in the present tense

third person singular,
conjugating the verbs
to be or not to be typed
the ripened theme still
yet unknown

the tone,
a dream perhaps
with overthrowns
of some fantastic
journey to a play
staged on the surface
of jupiter's moon

but oh how soon
the coming of
the stage direction
behind the draw of curtains
written once or twice
and edited too many times,
so certain of the final bow

and yet she's still
expounding on
philosophies
somehow

waiting for
broadway
or at least
a decent
revue

third person
singular

in the
new
york
times
which are
so often dismissed
like fish wrapped up
in them, gone to felines
trashed to eat them up
half dead, bones
jutting out
and a head
that used
to think

hearts in bleed
into the kitchen
sink

the stink
the stench
wrenched
in the
absurdity

of complete sentences
without a verb
to do

while the third
person singular
dances with
blurs
anew