Poem: Supposed Song of Myself

Supposed Song of Myself

Words: Jon Turcotte
Image: Tyler Rosado
QuailBellMagazine.com

I am a student who sits at a computer desk trying to emulate Walt Whitman.
I am sitting by a warm fire with friends, trying to emulate Walt Whitman
I am celebrating all of my atoms, which are also Walt Whitman’s.
I am not Walt Whitman.

I should try to emulate a more famous Walt, like Walt Disney.
I should find a way to write the most perfect poetry.
I should hoard my money in a porcelain pig.
I should find some first.

This is me taking myself seriously, but not really.
This is what my poetry looks like when my friend plays Grand Theft Auto next to me.
This is the poem that will probably change the way you think about me.
This is art, sweetheart.

I’d lie and say that I’m in the desert, missing but not lost.
I’d lie and say that I’m traversing the suburbs, drinking lemonade from lemonade stands.
I’d lie and say that I’m Walt Whitman, writing decent poetry that’s worth reading.
But I’d be lying.  I’m Walt Disney now.

It’s cliché if I write about being enamored with summer skylines
It’s cliché if I rant about a member of the opposite sex.
It’s cliché to write about death, as if I’ve experienced it.
Call me cliché, just not today.

Later, I’ll scratch words into a school desk.  Not my name but words that I hope will inspire people in some way or another.
But it will never be my name.

Want me to tell you why I write?  Are you ready for this?
Well, I’m not sure that I can put it into words,
Which is ironic, I know, especially
When you consider that writing and
Words are really the only tools I’ve got.

#Unreal #Poetry #JonTurcotte #Photography #TylerRosado #Irony #Word #Write #CerebralExcursion
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