... in my new blue hues

Simmer Down Honey

Sometimes I forget how much infighting goes on in the poetry world. Seriously, what gives? Poets fight over who is more outside of the outside, who sucks but rejects obvious genius, who thinks they are Bukowski but sure the hell ain't, who is the real deal, who is a fraud, who is a jackass. I mean, really? Seriously?

Most poets are chasing the same thing, the same crumbs, the same elusive "success" and even the definition of THAT can be fodder for an argument. I mean, I don't care, I do my thing and don't really weigh in on a lot of this stuff. I just don't fully understand this world and what goes on. I really don't. Isn't the world big enough?

1 comment:

Joseph M. Gant said...

that is why I associate with very few individuals. as a writer, I am naturally narcissistic, but I care little for the opinions of fools. too many around to count. fuck 'em. I don't even read their shit as it's most often inferior and only brings down the level of inspiration I seek.