Raw Poem Post 11
11/11/05 1:20 AM
Prose Poem X
It was as if the banality of the poet’s life had become a snowflake moray eel whose mouth opened to reveal that the snowflake moray eel was just a costume that a regular moray eel was wearing to impress some fellow monstrosities of the sea. At least he could leave behind the flimsy metaphors and lunge into the next sentence. He could simply lament his days, as many poets before him had done. No! There was no song in what he was doing here. He had, after all, started this one out as one of those rambling French things that results in a paragraph--no stanzas or metric lines. He had in fact titled this dull thing that had thudded out of him like a stone “Prose Poem X.”
Prose Poem X
It was as if the banality of the poet’s life had become a snowflake moray eel whose mouth opened to reveal that the snowflake moray eel was just a costume that a regular moray eel was wearing to impress some fellow monstrosities of the sea. At least he could leave behind the flimsy metaphors and lunge into the next sentence. He could simply lament his days, as many poets before him had done. No! There was no song in what he was doing here. He had, after all, started this one out as one of those rambling French things that results in a paragraph--no stanzas or metric lines. He had in fact titled this dull thing that had thudded out of him like a stone “Prose Poem X.”
posted by Rhino Benedetti at 11:54 PM
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