I-land

This I-land offers no welcome
it does not matter whether
you’ve come from near, come from far
in good or stormy weather.
This I-land offers no welcome.

This I-land cares not of desires
so at the docks where they landed
your ships may stay, till the boards float away
(welcome to the land of the stranded).
This I-land is full of liars.

This I-land is haunted, so I hear
the land overpopulated, the ocean full
of unblinking corpses with all their teeth
but I’ve never seen another soul.
This I-land is haunted, so I fear.

This I-land tricked me once
I swear I saw in the distance
an armada of Yous slicing through uncharted waters
but I haven’t seen them since.
This I-land tricked me once.

(Just once.)

I-land

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The Art of Affectation

what a world, to treat harsh realities
as fiction’s cheap play things
and any remorse for our counterfeit
forgotten in the deafening sound of praise
this is proof that Hollywood and literature
are similar in at least a few ways

– E

Poetic Farce

How poetic, they say
Something about gaping flesh
And an analogy
of some sort or another
Shed a tear or two for
the artist who has caught a snapshot
of the human condition in its misery
Meanwhile we will praise ourselves
for having the ability to understand
something as simple as a poem
Supposing it is easier
to understand a poem than to
understand the human condition
Yes, how poetic

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