The Happy Lamentors, Poets Poem by Chuy Amante

from the top of love's peaks
flying off into happy clouds
go the poets of one extreme

cast into the bowels of sadness
abandoned, left cold, rejected,
ready to end their pity...
go the other half

what would poetry sound like
from the middle?
the sound of stillness, smiling,
accepting, being, breathing,
non attachment, painless
verbs not conjugated,
sentences without punctuation
the perfection of seeing all
as it is, without the caffeine,
sugar free, flat white,
low octane, no adrenaline,
without supplemental vitamins

poetry without a pencil
just paper
and light
until the paper blows away
and what if there is no thinker
to create
it
the non-thinking thinker
poetically dies off
leaving what?