A 'Confessional Poetry'  Denying It's Own Pre-Med Being

 

striving tow'ard a
post-mortem selfpo
           rtrait  using veryfunny colours
customade from fadin g
                  colours that even I even I
                  canno dream'bout any[no]
           more  /
to putforth anysuch [of any ]
  effort-to-do-so
would truly compound thee
  complicated impressions of 'Faux', (a
                        word eye love
                      for only
                  submisconscious
                      'reason[s]' ),
in ways(of-what-means)
        most[ly] indescribable    / aye'll
                                  rumbleramble
                           on+on to
                     say
              as if 'I write Poetry',
    said as if there was no
'So What?' possible nor probable nor preventable
    when
     all that was done is said over+over
         again+again justlike it
  was before ,   in thee higher spirits of
              Ad Nauseum
                       /
it could be said that here came I to
         Teach You Some
                      thing,to Learn You
            Some thing,
 all ways using a sliding'scale to
      grade the road,
    to grate my(o'my) very'own Nerves
                     to shiver'shaking
                   in florid trepidation,
                in a florid state of
                     Being
                  For Not Being ,
all this flow'ry speech winding up in
        the good neighborhood
          florist's flowerpotted
            back'alley
            dumpster.........  /

no thing,no-thing-at-all,
               
could be Further From The Truth......(but wee'know
                                 how that  shit works,
                                         don'twee?)


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2015dkzk\\\FOTOSwitThesePoomsAllBY:dkzk:"[asswell)"
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