A Simple Declarative Sentence

Dec 7 2012

Say what you’re going to say.

Say it.

Say what you said.

I remember this from high school English.

And that essay

is from the French, to try.

So why poetry?

Why, when poets never say what they mean?

Like listening to jazz

sometimes you wish you could shout

“Just play the notes, already!”

But jazz is a conversation.

So even the trumpet, and sax

stop showing-off

long enough to listen,

to call-and-response

to handing-off

to more homely instruments

like double bass.

On the other hand

poets are blowhards

who love the sound of their own voice,

or failing that

insist you read in yours, out loud.

Who say they let a poem

go out into the world

and you can make of it what you will.

But really, they’re jealous of their precious words,

consumed by envy

when other’s work

wins the prize.

You’d think

all this poetry

would at least make me good at flirtation,

the subtle wink

and sharp repartee,

the artful misdirection.

But when she says I love you

a cleverly ambiguous response

a metaphor for deep affection

some breathy innuendo of sex

are far too much.

The master of compression

reduced to mumbling

fuzzy-tongued, and face-flushed,

who cannot utter love

in the 1st person.

Or if able to say it

mean what he says.

A simple declarative statement

as hard as he tries.