grave wisdom

what’s his real name again? i asked in the bath
room stall adjacent to you.
oh, i don’t know.
is that my heart beating that loud?
no, it’s the bass from the music. 

today’s merry pranksters are far less
merry
far less
honest.

too afraid to say:

the real prank—the real joke is
 
on
 
me.

we know far
more about chemicals

but far
less about intersubjectivity

but oh, that…feeling…is just the same

they really believed it.

we are
…transcending…
the bullshit.

as if they wanted us

to know
their motto of

smoke fuck drop roll.

goddamn.

there’s nothing to see here.

move along.

as much as i love
the Chief himself

and that old drunkard
that believed the only
people for him are
the mad ones—

we are standing

still.

we are not
transcending

we are
knee-deep in
quicksand.

where did you go
with your wisdom?

I’ll have the same please.
grave wisdom–wisdom of
the dirt..

it does not matter
if you are wise.

somebody might
remember

you

while they dive
face-first in the
quicksand

instead of
decaying like all of the
other wise eyes
before them.

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4 thoughts on “grave wisdom

  1. Very entertaining imagery, which greatly accompanies the poem. Very contemporary subject – very socially accurate, and what’s more, the free verse form used – very cool.

    1. Ah! Thank you, Derek. 🙂 I feel like when writing about the beats, free verse is a must. (And I can’t write form to save my life! [good thing I’ll never have to. {knock on wood}])

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