From the Land of No-Poetry
By Gary Lindorff
Welcome to the Land of No-poetry.
If I succeed in writing this poem
No one will understand me.
It will be like talking backwards.
It will be like autism.
There is no music here,
Except what you buy.
The weather is predictable.
Frogs are two-headed or one-legged
But it doesn’t mean anything.
Up means up, down means down.
Everything makes bitter sense, but what is bitter?
We don’t know anything about that.
Oh, and what is across the street
Has always been across the street.
Where ever you want to go
There is a sidewalk. . .
You have been here forever,
I have been here forever. . .I think. . .
For the rest of this new original poem by Gary Lindorff, resident poet at ThisCantBeHappening!, the new independent two-time Project Censored Award-winning online alternative newspaper, please go to: www.thiscantbehappening.net/node/1195