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December 21, 2010
I don't do poetry
anymore.
I was never any good at it.
I like to call my style
blank verse,
but really,
it's just prose.
Chopped up.
Whittled down.
Flung onto the page
like the paint
of an abstract artist.
Orange and blue and green and yellow,
but no purple,
no red,
because those are girl colors,
and I can't live up
to the high standards
of women poets.
Someday,
I might write a poem again.
It might even be good.
Profound. Beautiful. Classic.
But
if you were to put all the sentences together,
they'd make a paragraph,
because all I write
is prose.