Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Sonnet #124

There is no wisdom greater than stay alive

Until the time it hurts too much, and burdens
The ones we love. But more than staying alive
There is also living. Leaving the house, around the bend
Into the city and into the forest, where people and flowers
Rise to bloom. I've sat in my bedroom too long
Killed monsters that don't exist to feel power
that isn't real, and it's time to set aside the song
of the poet, to stand and sweat and hurt and ache
To face the risk of looking foolish. Be more than vegetal
Be more than authorial, be more than just the fake
stand-ins for life made by artists like me. Enter all
crowded places, wander all hills, learn the lessons of meat
Learn the lessons artists cannot teach, of genuine heartbeats

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