I haven’t been blogging much lately because I haven’t had much to say. However, I thought, with the New Year approaching that I should try to generate a new post. I’ve got nothing but pineapple friends, so I thought “Hey, I’ll just post an inspirationalish New Yearsy kind of poem.” So then I did what anyone with two English Lit degrees does, and I googled “New Year’s poem.”

Here’s one of the hits from poets.org:

A Good Year Down

 
by Jeni Olin
 
New York will not accept me at this weight &
Mothers of the disappeared don’t come ’round
Here anymore. I said you’re housekeeping aren’t you
With Lipton tea stains & the Establishment
Seriously attracted. He said: No
I’m turning down the beds. Now it’s my turn
In bed with a beautiful American rage
Like brunettes with night sweats. My love
Semiprecious & stoned
In the shoulder season we hold on
Though I am dismal & have no dope
Siphoned off behind pink Easter
I fake an optimism
Just to breathe-Just thinking of him for once &
The Wandering Jew that ate my sunshine
But I know flowers like Zorro was my dad
Those garlands of thin hissing lasers
So with the “sexy isotherms
Of semiotics” we meet again at the Kiev
To check chemistry. They bring the lights
Down on those cherry pies & like cryogenics
It sorta works. This time my love
The salt doll of night egging us on
Straight to the zeppelin mooring
With she-has-a-bit-of-the-neardamned-in-her-
Like-when-a-cloud-dies construed as
Well, all right, I’ve seen worse.		  

 

It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I like it anyway. Also, it’s much better than that effing “Darkling Thrush” by Thomas Hardy (g.d. sadist).

Enjoy, and Happy New Year.

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