none of that by Vaughan Gunson

I try to stuff it down
this poetry thing

the light of a
child,
a rainbow stretched
to black

it wants everything
if it could
if it might be good,
                                     which is
always in doubt

like leaving home,
leaving to follow
the stars across the Pacific

always in doubt.

it’s been said before,
& once more:
it’s not the time for poetry
(when has there
been a time?)

we need something braver,
something harder
                                     —poetry
can be a wayward
& glorious coward

& you can take
one too many steps
over the body in the street,

the street where there are no
camellias planted

none of that.

.

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4 Comments

Filed under Vaughan Gunson

4 responses to “none of that by Vaughan Gunson

  1. Oh, yes! Very wonderful poem, very

  2. vgunson

    Thanks Susan.

  3. Relatable and gorgeous, imagery is potent, the self-doubt magnified in your words. Lovely!

  4. Pingback: Week #45 – Broken shells | 52|250 A Year of Flash

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