Of course I would like to be
a poet of personal universalities,
noting, in chiseled language,
daily events, extravaganzas of nature
and the amazing revelations they bring,
Once I was such a poet
or at least was making appropriate gestures in that direction.
Should I try to explain
in a 600-page memoir titled Some Time in New York City
Or a lengthy autobiographical essay called “The Dangers of Derrida”?
Or a playlist that leads off with
the Sex Pistols, the Contortions and Gang of Four?
Or point to a line on my CV that reads
“Studied with Harry Mathews 1978-79”?
It’s 9:20 AM. Almost time to leave
this light-filled café at Varick and Franklin
and plunge back into artworld maneuvering.
Before I go
I’ll read one more page of Ammons’s A Coast of Trees