Thing Language Poem by Jack Spicer
Thing Language
This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
Tougher than anything.
No one listens to poetry. The ocean
Does not mean to be listened to. A drop
Or crash of water. It means
Nothing.
It
Is bread and butter
Pepper and salt. The death
That young men hope for. Aimlessly
It pounds the shore. White and aimless signals. No
One listens to poetry.
To K.C. Ford, whose comment is below: Dude, you are talking to someone who died in 1965!
No wonder no one listens to modern poetry. Take a break Jack. Try expressing a poem of substance. Perhaps then will people listen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 11:38:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
'' No One listens to poetry. '' just the simple truth..
No, none listen to poetics and no one listens to poetry. None.