Often poets write about poetry and I regard myself
as a rather disgusting practice because it's self-reflexive.
But everybody does it and I've done it also,
so I'll recite two poems about poetry and a poetic situation.
I think it's fair to do this in an academic situation
where some people are interested in writing verse
and reflexively I excused myself and reciting them.
This one is called--
I'll go the other way around.
I'll recite a new one first and old one second.
This one is called "Against Compulsive Performance
and Confessional" Verse.
"How I envy the workers who sit down every day,
regardless of their boredom, pains, and joys and go
on with their works regardless.
Now, in the sixth day of indiscipline,
I say I have a painful swelling behind my left knee.
The man I work for gave me a hard time and my wife
has run away and won't come back unless I go get her limping
and get fired.
Besides I'm drunk on Thursday night.
Can my shakes make payday?
The muse and poet ask me, 'are you broke too?'
'Yes.' 'Have you paranoia?'
'I hear voices" Nausea.
[LAUGHTER] Nausea, I puke at you.
'Well, now is the time to make verse.
[LAUGHTER] I say, 'Nonsense.
I have to go to sleep and make paydays.'
[LAUGHTER] once I obeyed them freely
and it led to this crisis at 40 years, now
I crap out and swear, 'next week when
my life problems have settled out,
I will order my passions artfully, but now no.
What more do you fictions want from me, everything.
They laugh from their depths of accomplishment
and I hear their voices going away
like Howard Bell's chiding, Dugan, Dugan [LAUGHTER]
sadly and amused so I am left to do
what I please as their fool."