What? ? ? ? Poem by RIC BASTASA

there are many things still to write
i should have written it directly like pen to paper
without any winding ways
i like to be blunt and candid and
spiteful and they will call me an angry man
a raging sea
a bully,
i stop short of this attack
it is not worth it
what shall i get when they will know about my
complaints?
they will just say, i am reflecting what i have
not achieved
that i am just spitting to heaven
as i am spitting to my face
i am tired, and i have transformed strength to
weakness
i am lost in what i want to see
i forget the beginning and sometimes i cannot decide
where to end
and what to say at the end
it is like this: i am mumbling, i do not really mean what i am saying
it is deep in the night
and i am sleepy and may be
hallucinating and you keep on reading because you are too
reflecting on the
inevitable,

you expect a wise retort? an ending with a clinch
or something?

there is nothing to this. Except


what? ? ? ?