Jim Ferris
The Hell He Chooses
for Stanley Plumly and Paul Guest
I only have a small piece
of paper on which to write
what I hope will become
a small poem. The great journal
of poetry publishes
a noted poet’s poem
making fun of no having fun with
no just using a quad poet
calls him twice the para of old –
that’s poetic. Noted poet is good,
a winner, he can write whatever
the hell he chooses, they can publish
what they like, and if they’ve not liked
anything of mine yet still that lets
me write this small thing from a
disinterested disaffected
disjointed disarticulated
or is it just plain disabled
perspective – I’ve already
filled my small piece of paper
and scrounged another
cadged it the way that disabled
guy cadged people’s attention
in that poem – and I wish
I had a scooter that could take
some of the damnable stress
off my hips and back
(or should I say the hips and back –
universality
through specificity,
right? Where does the close paren
go, that poem in
the famous journal
has discombobulated
if not disarmed me,
I don’t know why
I let things affect me like this,
I try to stay open to where
art takes me, poem, I’m yours,
usually I think it’s my fault,
my failure, when I can’t go,
this time I don’t think so.