Freeform
written by: Jim Murdoch
The sound is enough, said Camier
– Samuel Beckett
Sometimes I underthink things.
Mostly I think the living daylights
out of things and occasionally,
hemi-demi-semi-casionally,
I do the perfect amount of thinking.
Sadly, those are rarely poetry days.
Most never give thinking a second thought.
They assume it’s like breathing.
And it is. Sort of. Not really.
As usual I’m overthinking this.
Overuminating. Overpondering.
Underlettinggo-ofing. You know,
I never used to get Buk’s shambolics,
the same way I never got Mingus or
Pollock or Merce Cunningham.
I overthought and underfelt.
A fundamental faux pas.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
People look at art and say, “Yes,
but what does it mean?” never, “Yes,
but what does it emote?”
Why is that?
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