My Surly Heart
[A great singer needs] a big chest, a big mouth, 90 percent
memory, 10 percent intelligence, lots of hard work, and
something in the heart.
–Enrico Caruso
The aim of literature…is the creation of a strange object
covered with fur which breaks your heart.
–Donald Barthelme
You don’t know what lives
in there until you ask it
to help you make some art
Fall in love with someone
run a marathon befriend a
homeless person I’ll help
you with those things art
is too hard plus it makes
me feel strange it whines
Look what it did to Plath
Berryman Jimi Hendrix Van
Gogh Kurt Cobain Basquiat
Rothko and Billie Holiday
Heart I beg you I want to
sing arias paint gorgeous
visions write novels that
will inspire people to be
kind to each other I want–
Don’t be an idiot I’m not
that kind of heart you’re
not ready to make the art
I could help you with you
can be an okay accountant
look at your tidy columns
the kind of art you’d get
with my help will horrify
your mother make your dad
angry turn your potential
girlfriends cold keep you
poor forever trust me art
I help you with will make
you feel dissatisfied all
day teach you how failure
disfigures the soul turns
you permanently eccentric
disqualifies you–
Enough!
How about we say no songs
no paintings no novels or
memoirs just a poem every
now and then? Heart turns
in my chest lurches skips
syncopates finally growls
Hate the stuff can’t help
you–
Yes you can you know
you can just one poem you
can do that for me to get
me started–
Gonna be mean
as a mistreated porcupine–
I don’t care, I just want
to feel like a poet Heart
snarls OK pal you got it.