14,462. SOMETIMES I GET GENERALLY MAD

SOMETIMES I GET 

GENERALLY MAD

What passes for poetry today baffles me:

Not saying anything about my own, but

I admit to have tendencies that do not fit.

For instance, tell me what sense you make

of this: "Black Frasier Crane  -  As lonely/ 

in her overthinking/and as forgiven/Black

Frasier Crane/is a woman in a multi/-

generational/household with more than

enough/square feet"...

-

That's only the first of five sections. When

my belly stops hurting I'll type up another

section. I'd have to say there nothing really

to grab onto when reading it. It's fairly

trendy, all the right buttons : Black,

female, and the rest.

-

"Black Frasier has/a small staff/but she

treats them/'like family';/she has a soothing/

radio voice and reserved/parking at both

her condo/and the office"  -  I have to ask,

isn't all this so good?

-

"Black Frasier complains/about little everythings/

because what is more/important than the fine/

dusting of cinnamon/on the perfect ratio/of foam

to espresso/except the knowing/that you and/

only you/have the sense to complain"

-

I don't begrudge  -  don't get me wrong  -

Rio Cortez for getting this published, and

in a national publication too, but I have to

ask, simply, why? What standards were

in play?

-

"And who else/could understand/ but a

sister/two Black Cranes/in custom Italian

suits/joking about Freud:/Isn't this the hardest

work?/To be happy"

-

I guess I'll break in one last time to say,

before I leave you with the conclusion

of this monstrous predilection to random

pretension: Aren't we all what we say?

So why should this crap be any different?

-

"when you already/have everything/to have

so much/you give some up/ not away/but to

the beast in you/that just takes/and takes until/

there are no more/brulees and no more/canapes

just the mind's/endless narration"

-

Now that we've rhymed brulees and canapes,

I'll leave.