Sunday, September 28, 2008
how genius i will never be.
it is not something that grows
not a persistent fungus on a pickled foot.
worn out and lazy as i am
and with such a lazy, discontented mind
ideas pucker and fuse with
the omnipresent mundane
until there is no way for me to know
where the mind stops and the world begins.
this, my friend, my self, is not
was never genius.
and was never labeled as such.
but please will you humor me as i tie on this bow
and make this putrid mind a special thing,
a gift to myself.
please do not tell me
what i and everyone knows.
a genius can tell where
the mind's line draws itself
it can hear the squeaks of the new chalk
i don't see it. is it too light? the line?
yes that's it.
that is why.