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The Official Material section has been updated, lads and ladies. Cheers.
Someone asked me why I make so many references in my work. Well, it’s because I find the things I reference interesting (and I think that the people that appreciate my work will also find them equally intriguing) – and because in the age of Google, I think that these various references are easy to search out and look up if one wants to find out more about them. That isn’t to say that my work is inaccessible without a reader knowing exactly every reference that I make – hopefully, I’ve accomplished this undertaking and you find that even if you do not know exactly what I’m talking about you still get something from the work. Hopefully you have been able to make out the underlying intention behind every tragic, satirical, self-mocking bit of verse or prose that I’ve published here. If not you might be the cultural or intellectual equivalent of a prig or Bristol Palin.
Remember that when you read me – you are reading a formidable curmudgeon, a loving drunk, a dejected cynic, a man who’s lost himself in verse and has forgotten the world that has him cornered. I am but a contemporary Tom Sawyer with no fence to paint.
For a Languid Muse
Like a well bought derivative
you’re meaningless but profitable
like whores for plays, sickly and over-powdered
I’ve found you a role
dressed in white like a hopeful symbol
that inspires
but does nothing much besides
my creature, pure, of artifice
I wish to be moved most of all
by you
even if through liberal derision
by your lovely, limber form
this is just a disgraceful continuance of my lecherous adornment of you:
an adoring verb here (I apotheosize my love)
a gentling adjective for dressing
just a familiar orgy now
all of it
every line
a misery newly blind and bound by expectation
a cathouse in a loveless dusk
an atelier of rooted thieves with empty pockets and empty skill
a royal court without a queen
it’s growing dull, then duller still
you must let me feel less for you
as the inevitable conclusion forms merit
as a muzzle upon the hand with which I hold my pen
leave me be
finally a finality
a lament gutted by a smile
you’ve served a while
and now your time is done
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Tags: Lilia, Muse, Sincere Poetry, Writer's Block
