The Middle

The guy on stage says
that poems are always
about beginnings and endings. If
you want middles, write a novel, he says.

Some in the audience nod,
but my first thought is that
he obviously can’t think
outside the box.

Later, I decide
that you should not write a poem
about your drug experiences
unless you know for certain that you are
the reincarnation of William S. Burroughs.

(If you are unsure,
you should be able to answer ‘yes’ to the following questions:

Do you know better?
Do you have a birthmark that looks like a bullet piercing a shotglass?

Note: it is a requirement that
both criteria must be present
to confirm the incarnation.)

Later still, I realize
I want to hear someone say,
“Y’know, I used to cut/drink/drug/fuck inordinately
and insanely, I once had a broken heart
and a vampire fixation, I’m broken beyond repair —
but doesn’t the revelatory taste of this coffee
just CRUSH that precious little pyre to embers?”

And then I get it,
understand that the first poet was right.
I realize suddenly I’m the very personification
of the middle and I am indeed
useless here.

The young here
share their heart’s content,
seeing that as
a means to an end. The logic goes
that once you’ve got

the easy stuff knocked, once you’ve
picked all the low apples
from the smart tree,
it’s gonna be a sweet glide
to closure.

Let them angels like them apples. Let the young
imagine Eden sprouting from their trials.
Me, I’m gonna keep worrying this old bone I found
buried at the base of that tree
before the sword and the fire drove me away…

it must fit somewhere, probably between other things
I haven’t found yet, but if I have to get burned
hunting for them I will, if I have to lose a limb getting close enough
I will, and if I have to keep barking
about the things in the middle…well, woof.

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NOTE: that first line refers to a poem by Dean Young that Chris Fortin read at his excellent feature at the Asylum last night. I used it as a starting point, and my poem should in no way be construed as a comment on Chris’ fine work and/or his superb set.