Poetoric

I've been trying to write ever since January. I don't mean blog entries or papers for my classes, although these have kept me from completely hanging up my identity as a writer and I am thankful for them. I mean something literary (or at least literary-ish), i.e. fiction or poetry. Well, after being creatively dry for nearly a year, I have finally received a trickle of inspiration! And who would have thought its source would be the socio-linguistic theories of Nietzsche, Bakhtin and Foucault? I hate to admit it, but these esoteric eggheads do have a way with words. (Much to my surprise, Nietzsche has the most beautiful voice of doom I've ever read. Not that I enjoy reading voices of doom, particularly.) Add total immersion in my new Bjork CD (finally got her Greatest Hits), which is absolute poetry, and what else was I to do with all this inspiration but write a couple of my own poems yesterday? I'll share the better of the two here. If you love this poem, the other one isn't as good so you're not missing much. If you hate this poem, the other one is even worse and you'll be kissing my pinkie toes not to read it. I ain't no Frost or Dickinson, but I am just SO glad I was finally able to write something other than schoolwork! Be happy for me. (For a limited time only, I will accept insincere flattery.)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Although my rhetoric class analyzes discourse on a more technical level involving big heavies like sociology, linguistics and philosophy, I am really referring to the most basic definition of the word, which according to Merriam-Webster Online means a "verbal interchange of ideas; especially conversation."

dis-course

in this stream
there is no sure footing
must go slowly
eyes feeling
ears watching

words muddy and thicken
the current
like sludge
while thoughts drip
from the cuffs of my pants
and disappear
in the turbid flow
or lodge themselves
in rocks and eddies

something
brushes against my feet
outside of me?
a fish—
or maybe
just my own pulse

the only truth
I can name:
sharp gravel
biting my heels