This one is called "I Hate."
"I hate how this unsummoned sigh-sound, sob-sound, not
sound really, feeling, sigh-feeling, sob-feeling,
keeps rasping in me, not in its old guise
as nostalgia, sweet crazed call of blackbird in spring.
Not as remembrance, grief for so many gone, not
either that other tangle of recall,
regret for unredeemed wrongs, errors, omissions, petrified
root too deeply hooked to ever excise.
A mingling rather, a melding, inextricable mesh
of delight in astonishing being, of being in being,
with the fear of and fear for I can barely think what,
not non-existence of self, loved ones, love.
Not even war, fuck war, sighing for war,
sobbing for war, for no war, peace, surcease.
More than all that, some ground-sound,
ground-note, sown in us now, that swells in us, all of us.
Echo of love we had, have, for world, our world,
on which we seem finally mere swarm, mere deluge, mere matter
self-altered to tumult, to noise,
cacophonous blitz of destruction,
despoilment, din from which every emotion
henceforth emerges.
And into which falters, slides, sinks, and subsides.
Sigh-sound of lament, of remorse.
Sob-sound of rue, of still, always,
ever sadder and sadder sad joy."
Didn't follow that OK?
[LAUGHTER]
No, these new poems are sort of meant to tumble along.
I've given more meaning to the music.