Poem for John Wieners

I am not a poet

because I live in the actual world

where fear divides light

I have no protection against

the real evils and money

which is the world

where most lives are spent

I am not a poet

because I cannot sing about

lost kingdoms of righteousness

instead I see a woman in a blue parka

crying on the street today

without hope from despair

I am not a poet

for there is nothing I can say

in smart turns to deflect

oncoming blows of every day's

inexistence that creeps into

the contemporary horizon

I am not a poet

but a witness to bear the empty

space that becomes hearts

if left to loiter or linger

without a life to share

I've seen sorrow on joy street

and heard the blur of the hurdy-gurdy

and I too know what evening means

but this is not real—poetry is

and from this have I partaken

as my eyes grow into the evolved dark

Source: In Defense of Nothing: Selected Poems, 1987-2011 (Wesleyan University Press, 2014)