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Screen Dump 567

It's all about the inventiveness of angularity, yes? . . .

I know you agree . . .

You recently joined the ranks of the wide-eyes

bottlenecking drive-thrus at Dunkin'

with blue-penciled drafts

soon to-be-returned to students in the final throes of MFAs . . .

To think about building almost into a poem . . .

The days commiserate . . .

The cityscape welcomes . . .

Surely this will be memorialized in someone's journal . . .

You begin taking dictation in the back seat

with a mellow intransigence

that belies a joyful entanglement . . .

You know what I mean . . .

Again, the enigma of who, indicative of autofiction, confuses . . .

How to represent without sanitizing the story? . . .

As if odysseyites would suddenly agree to therapy

to tease out whose swollen ethics will set them free? . . .

Thumbing through the catalog at the exhibit

you stumble upon text that you are sure holds the key

to kiosks belching their goods . . .

their lines ultimately stretching out (a good thing)

after the monochromatic lifestyle shutdown

imposed upon us by aliens . . .

You have always been one to seek growth

always ready for a new take on tradition . . . knowing full well

that reading a poem will seem like rewriting your life

not unlike playing with materials . . . pushing paint . . .

making habitual gestures to get to the surprise gesture . . .

And this so-called anti-self awareness trend? . . .

The obscurantism unintentional

though some - many? - would disagree . . .