Poles of Confusion
by Damion Hamilton
I build with my confusion
And fall with my confusion
And this weekend there is much
Confusion and frantic moving about
As people get ready for Mardi Gras
And Super Bowl parties
And I just want to sit in a room
Alone and think or read Kierkegaard
And do some more thinking about
Professional wrestlers and stand up comics
A few of the interesting ones—
Those guys spending all that time on the
Road and in those hotel rooms,
So that they can entertain the bored
Crowds from all over
And those people will be glad to see
These guys, because there is not much going
On in their towns
There isn’t much going on in any town
As I muse over ideas and put some of these ideas
On paper; some call it poetry or prose
Or whatever it is, it seems to matter to me
And matter so little to everyone else,
And I am usually eternally out of place,
Quiet possibly in the wrong country
Or universe
My land it a comedienne’s land
As my words cut through the serious page
And people just want to laugh and feel good
Yeah, I understand this—
The people are drunk with the workweek
And I am drunk with the workweek,
But the movies, the comics and the wrestling
Will not work for me
I need some of these things and more
As I fall into my madness
While thinking of some ancient race
Somewhere who knew how to live
And I’ll shake my head, not knowing anything
About those people;
But I know a little about the people of my land
I walk through it, while seeing faces and bodies
And listening to the sound of voices
And it comes through like an alligator
Devouring an apple or leg—
People are not living