| Trying to make happiness poetic is a hard job. Because it isn't. Joy is poetry itself and it has this pure, transparent quality to it. Poetry is making pain sound nice. The art of making misery sweet. Of creating something beautiful out of it, which is great alchemy. Building a beautiful sculpture out of ashes. But joy is already sweet. Without the masks or the well-thought- of analogies. Not poetic but poetry. As you melt with the minutes... And the salesman at the store... As drivers become your allies and mornings become your doors. As the cold almost can't touch you... as you're alchemy itself. As you start painting your life and you start sculpting yourself. As you are a kid again... taking life apart and then putting it back together like pieces of Lego. Life your game and the world your very own lab. Feeling like a tiny piece of universe. The world belongs to you and you belong to the world. Nothing really matters when you stop writing poetry... Because your life has become poetry itself. |
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