0283 A Poet Condescends Poem by Michael Shepherd

It has been brought to my notice
that a review by you of
my latest book of writings
(the term ‘poem’ suggests
false expectations and is not therefore
used by me) claims that, I quote,
‘this poetry is so obscure that
I reckon it’s a hoax’…

Your comment is truer than
you yourself would appreciate.
My writing is indeed a hoax
in terms of your level of
understanding. I do not seek
easy paths to meaning, nor
the standard readymade language of the
avant-garde. So what I have
worked though, you have not,
and therefore, your understanding
however partial would be, in your
terms, a hoax.

Indeed, were you to write
an identical ‘poem’ to my writing,
it would indeed be a hoax –
it would not be the revisioning
of the cosmos, the semantic discourse
with language and communication itself,
the thoughtful and reasoned displacement
of prepositions and their too-long
accepted usage, the deep rejection of
all parameters of lazy thinking about
the imagined ‘purpose’ of poetry,
the study of Chinese orthography as preferred signifier,
in short, the ‘depth’ and ‘breadth’ –
although I of course reject the
accepted implications of those
out-dated metaphors for the
neurological Cartesian – which, in short,
‘I’ as presented in my writing
have voyaged.

However, in
the spirit of charity, I wish you well
in the deeper study of my writings,
and your ‘poetry’ magazine
should it continue its somewhat
faltering publication.

Besides, I’m a widely published
writer so yah boo sucks.


(Palinode to the above: everyone has the right to write obscure poetry...I'm unfairly attributing to the poet the attitude of those who put themselves on a pedestal and 'explain' why they're a genius...) (Though of course...)