Vagrant Hounds

Vagrant Hounds

 

 

the speaker in my poem

is a misfit

writing of himself in second person

as if blaming himself for himself

projecting the image

as his own eyes bend

in contractual belief

that he is a grammatical genius

a poet of superfluous fuss

 

they all look at you

with adoring glance

try not to stare at the talent

that has caught their attention

wannabes, has beens

poets with trigger happy pens

bursting the very seams of which you are 

congratulating yourself 

for sewing into your threadbare life

 

nine lines of torture

per stanza, per poet

perhaps

another Ginsberg

Howling down the block

as we shut the windows tightly

pull down the blinds

and turn the stereo up full blast

to drown out volume's velocity

 

as the shots ring out

blood spills in inkish fashion

they stare at you in awe

you have killed so much verse

a Valentine's Day massacre

of malignant poetry

in contractual belief

superfluous genius

grammatical fuss

 

you change yourself into third person

doesn't hurt as much

second person is hard on the creative soul

too intimate

and first person is just plain dead

we'll leave that for the conclusion

and wish the poet well

the Howling is faint now

you slipped your leash

 

Ginsberg is searching for you

you are his footnote to "Howl."

 

 

erin-cilberto

4/11/26

Reviews

[redd Brick Keshner]

In the least a footnote is a citation, but the hounding of the howls feels like a poet's parallel to impostor syndrome; and it gristles and braids against the grain when words and thoughts are involved. Deep inside we sigh and cry and die. Most felt, j. 🕊️🙏
freds.