Monday, April 06, 2009

Hedge Funds (On Certainty)

Is that all art is good for time
Equals poetry equals risk equals
Money but your face is privi
leged you still have a face to

Understand your certainties
Uncertainties flexing of negative
Capability which is another
Name for power distraction I

Realize there is also a gamble
To seeming ingenuous enshrouded
By the white cube an air of
Gentility shares the mic is able

To make propositions one may
Not actually believe in because
They don’t have a name to move
Or act in the poem for the poem’s

Sake being artful absents all the
Misery a language grounds gains
Ground in the amplification of
Prosaics who your friends are

Who you are your platform when
The world is not as economic as
You say driven by finance there
Is no equating reasonably the

Shoah with Ponzi schemes the
Emptiness of your "findings" Afri
can babies when your teeth lock
Into a Hockney pose I smell the

Hackneyed stench of wealth not
Risk not vigilance or the search
For what the poem can do written
By one subject to time and chance.


Dorothea Lasky said...


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