Posted a screenshot of this as a twitpic but at my end at least it seems to have disappeared, and it’s probably best posted as text anyway. Also it requires more set up than was available to me posting on Twitter. I don’t know how to feel about this poem, I seem to either love it or hate it every time I come across it, I can see the good and bad sides of it, which overall leads me to believe it’s probably a good thing. But for what it’s worth, it’s something that was written by a (still) late-blooming artist barely beginning to bloom at the age of 21 in a very emotional and confusing time. I neither stand behind it nor frown upon it now, I just share it as a kind of relic, n invite you to make of it what you will. I don’t know if I wrote it the very day after 9/11, but I’m fairly sure I wrote it at some point in the week after. The reference to the nutsy news coverage makes me think probably a few days after… I forget exactly how fast I realised how stupid the rolling coverage was.
aWake?Petrified, we all but stand still: From fear rises quickly a fiery illwill. In wake of disaster, few words are spoken - Still life in the City means mourning has broken.Sudden, all wordly: The calm passed, a storm Rises jubilant - Nonsense. - Hysterical norm.Ruins remind that we're meant to be haunted, Beckoning future forced motion, resolve, And rather resorting to chaos, reported Most quibble, some mourn for the lately dissolved.Your ghosts watch you weeping, They did not want this. Know that while you were sleeping, They stopped by to kiss...Say farewell to your lovers, Let's never look back And perhaps we'll recover Un-willed-for attack.