Crazy Diamond Sutra
Living beings, born from eggs,
from the womb, from moisture...
The future of poetry bright
the incandescense blinding
before the facts of expression
This hip-hop Dylan thing
is so very listenable awhile
words wait the pen and page
We're speaking normal speech
discussing the normal poundage
of poetic flesh we want to know
Is it poetry? Hipsters fighting
to get on the plastic treadmill
listen to the baffled instructions
Knock her off, Beamish! Get her!
And yet there is music playing
the Beach Boys maybe Beatles
Back in the penitentiary
the sky is dull earth swimming
through water a summer night
Taxis await us two directions
and supposing the same heart.
© 2011 Rob Schackne
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