Yeah, but it don’t rhyme right

By J. Jules Vitali

...I’m sitting in one of them great old diners in a kinda major city the other day discussing "What is poetry?" with a friend (and bonafide paper holding poet in his own write) trying to decide if the drivel I compose extemporaneously is really poetry or not. He says, "Yes"... and me, well, I’m not so sure. The poems I write are vindictive and didactically left-wing radical socialistic treatises meant to be enjoyed without all the unnecessary understanding necessary to understand the poets of bygone days. They are payback for all those molto heavy poets who for years beat us into a submissive literary pulp by expecting us to know that the tender, insignificant leaf of the box alder at an oblique angle to the setting sun in spring time is really a direct metaphor for the rejuvenation of hope in the poor and forlorn who have recently known lost love but have since become reinspired to increase their crop output to compensate for the potential floods that occur every seventh year. ...It’s not that this kind of heavy is bad, it is just so dang exclusionary for people like myself. It’s like knowing computer code...anyone can look at it but there are only so many practiced geeks to really comprehend and groove on it. The stuff I write is like the art form where you look at a page of gobbeldy-gook colors and designs and let your eyes ‘defocus’ in order to allow the latent image to pop out at you. My writings ask that you just allow your brain to defocus and just enjoy some of the words that you might not have seen for awhile just laughingly wash over your cortex. If at first you don’t see anything in one of these literary creations just hold it directly in front of your eyes at nose level and slowly pull the page away from you and allow your brain to relax until the images don’t come into defocus. ...People who try and understand and make sense of this stuff of mine go crazy. They try to make a mental picture where there is no mental picture and hopefully, it ain’t a’gonna happen. It is more a celebration of the sound and use of words rather than their meaning.

...just as I mustanged the opaque buskins hung in mock escrow in our mud cellar

a rudiment awakened and despondently clashed the vigor of mother’s avuncular

handmaiden’s encrypted catacomb

that she had benigned so winsomely to

other prodigy not hence entrenched

in the oft garrulous miscalculations

of celestial detritus that will, when authored, tend to preconceive evocative afterthoughts incomprehensible to the assignations belied in rank order on the sands of misbegotten time where penguins have earmarked pagination devices not yet in mature visual perspective, not yet in mature visual perspective.

(copyright — not to be duplicated in any manner without permission)

...I hope that none of these words offended anyone. You have to be real careful nowadays. I am sure that despite the complete innocence with which I composed the aforesaid, there is bound to be something in there somewhere that will offend someone. A more politically correct piece would have had more undesireable homogeneity to it...that is, after it was run through the various new social filters, devoiding it of any originality.

...The August 12th, 1991 Time Magazine cover claimed we had become a nation of "Crybabies & Busybodies. This is 2003...almost twelve years later and anothing has changed. I think these people have slowly evolved into the Politically Correct. We have our Crybabies(the ‘eternal victims’) and our Busybodies(the ones who want to legislate you into their vision of perfection)....the more time that passes, the more I come to disdain the politically correct. It’s an oxymoron in itself...politically correct, indeed. You can’t be Political and Correct at the same least not in my brief 56 year lifespan. Two complete opposite concepts. Call me old-fashioned. This simmering tirade is starting to convolute exponentially, let me get out of here. If you understand what I was just trying to say and don’t like it, don’t write me, please. I have a right to my own point of view. If you do like it, then, you can write me. I like good news. Speaking of good news, I have a Gillette Good News disposable razor that I have been using daily for nigh on 17 months now. Granted, I sport a small beard this year, but that is why I didn’t throw the razor away after just a year like I usually do.

...Today a news article I read, said that the planet Earth, in the space/time continuum, has turned the corner and is on the long slow downward spiral in terms of it’s long term relationship with the Sun. I feel that we are are are also in the downward spiral with regards to society, the environment, war, terrorism, and political correctness. ...It’s always a idea good to defocus for a few minutes every now and again throughout the day.