Hello and welcome to my world, where what is written herein may be read, spoken, or sung, depending upon what is deserved.
You are accorded the full rights held by any citizen of the world
You have the right to remain silent, or have your attorney present
If you need an attorney and cannot afford one, one will be provided for you
Be secure in the knowledge that you are now in control of this interactive game
Don’t like it so far? Don’t turn the page. (I said, “Stop, close your test booklet, put your pencils down.) This ain’t a battle for your soul, it’s value hard to detect, but it beats most TV.
You’ll see righteous indignation, tales of brutality, odes to long lost loves incivility commented upon, angst and enmity, tributes to women, no need to genuflect, just verbal ingenuity occasionally spread amongst the pap, pabulum, and precociousness, where what is invented is always ill-defined, but may engender that nod or knowing sigh
These pages are yours, no longer mine, for they have made their way into your hands, I probably paid for them but I don’t mind
Each poem will tell a story, some are meant solely to amuse, some have some pithy comment to make, many are just confused
For poems have no order, sometimes no reason, even when they rhyme
Poems aren’t good for much of anything, most people ain’t got the time
Nor should they, who isn’t tired of self-indulgent crap, especially from someone like me who seems to need some new themes, but cannot seem to unstrap himself from this hurling vessel now out of his control
I got what I wanted from it, now it’s yours and yours alone
This ain’t a compact, there’s no need on your part to thank me, communicate in any way, to comment
You are at the beginning of a ride over the continents of the heart, these are flights of fantasy, and recriminations and odd feelings felt in times of dark
These poems won’t make you money, won’t solve your problems (nor have they solved any of mine), they’re just occasional animadversions or onomatopoeia, fits of nonsense or pretense, but who am I to say
This is the first one I’ve written, I don’t even know what will hereafter follow, no idea what I’ll say
I’ll try to keep your attention, your mind on the page
But I predict you’ll start dreaming somewhere down the line about some long-distance distant ex-lover, or what you’ve got to do the rest of the day
There is no intended effect here, just these words from someone who does not pretend to be a sage
What hereafter follows are poems, so hang onto your hat
Now turn the page.