I wrote a lot of poems

I was going to say postmodern poems

Because I’m staring at my book of postmodern American poetry

Which I need to read

But no

My poems

The ones I wrote

Are not postmodern

If terse

But anyway

I wrote them

Quite a few

Not too long

But well thought out

During the crisis


So out of chaos

Can come… what?




But fuck, it isn’t worth it

Better no chaos and one poem

Than chaos and ten

I prefer the peaceful life

I don’t want a crisis every day

I don’t…


I would assume does not, either

I don’t want this

Am I a different person than I used to be?

I liked who I was

So much

I was such a good person

And I had myself

And my life

And it was so good

I can’t tell

If I’m a good person anymore

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