Jack Spicer

(30 January 1925 - 17 August 1965 / Los Angeles, California)

Thing Language - Poem by Jack Spicer

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This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
Tougher than anything.
No one listens to poetry. The ocean
Does not mean to be listened to. A drop
Or crash of water. It means
Nothing.
It
Is bread and butter
Pepper and salt. The death
That young men hope for. Aimlessly
It pounds the shore. White and aimless signals. No
One listens to poetry.


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Read poems about / on: poetry, ocean, water, hope, death



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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