Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.



Tuesday, October 9, 2012

a death poem for robert creeley

in literature, poetry,
and perhaps few other things
the key to success seems to be To Die.
Baudelaire, he died, died,
Poe, he died, died,
Bolano, his last book was a tribute to a city, an epicenter of death completed while he was dying,
and now hes dead as well
jim carroll sang about people who died and now he is a dead person too...

A shinning coffin of letters
and ideas gilded with the money
everybody else is gonna make
after yve croaked it.
Fabolous.

And in hip hop
you rap about hustlin
then soon yr hustlin rap
sellin records instead of crack
cocaine etc...

I wonder what will be my legacy?
such illustrious squalor i have kindly mantained
-for myself.
maybe i'll fake my death and have my heir collect my cash
and send it to me in my hiding place.
or maybe i won't make very much money then either.

maybe the internet will be my golden ticket
sure seems like you can live forever
there
in the ether. its ok
this is my sardonic attempt at thus as i've spoken.
who died ?, died.
died.

No comments: