No Poem

I have not written a poem

I have not printed it, sold it, been sold by it

there has not been ink spilled in glory’s name

there have been no profound insights

         important distinctions or favorable descriptions

I have not been changed by this poem

         That I did not write

there were no new outlooks or dreams made clear

I have not danced with this poem

there are no beat words, no flowing of sublime reality

         nothing to hold on to

you never read this poem, I assure you

there were no comparisons to dead men’s ranting

         dead as this poem is

you are not reborn through my words

you, my friend, are exactly

                           the same

same as the dirt you forget or the iron that does not

         compose your will

same as same loves and has no name

there never was a poem

there have been no self songs, no fire or ice, no Grecian urns

no samurai who sing, no diamonds, no chimneys swept, no gods

no conversations about death

                          there are none

I am NOT better off, I am NOT a better man

there is nothing to ponder

there is no paradise

my 2 + 2 is still 4

I am still…

I have not written a poem

I have not written this poem

There is no poem