Thursday, July 5, 2012

Sense



"tornados in California-2010"
image borrowed from bing


Sense
What the hell makes sense?
The Bush Wars inherited by Obama?
Gas costing $1.25 per litre across Canada?
Cajun poutine without hot sauce?
Old age? Adolescent angst?
Intermittent attacks of Can’t Remember Shit,
body parts wearing out?
Who will be elected the next president
after telling lies, making unfulfillable promises,
and then being tossed back into the cauldron 
of arachnid archaic asinine politics?
Labeling things jumbo shrimp
or government intelligence?
Training thousands of dogs to fight war
and then giving them the status of “equipment”?
Continuing to be engaged by rhetorical inquiries?
Trying to understand why most GPS units send you
in stupid directions, to the wrong places, convincing
you that you have forgotten how to read a map?
Jean-Paul Sartre, Herman Cain, Ronald McDonald?
Jackson Pollack’s frenetic drippings?
Klee’s linear universe?
Mozart’s operas? My cat? The neighbor’s dog?
My wife, your wife, our children?
Rev. Mel Lewis holding a White Christian’s Conference
in Alabama? The Vatican excommunicating anybody?
Why Motel 6 rooms cost $85.00 per night?
Why I couldn’t find an SUV I liked that was painted red
instead of government mint silver?
Why millions of rational people live without fear
in the shadow of several fire mountains in Washington State?
Meg Ryan turning down the lead in PRETTY WOMAN?
Trying to decide whether to whistle or have sex in cemeteries?
Why there have been six AMERICAN PIE movies?
Why no one seems to give a shit that I saw a UFO up close
on the high CA desert in 1983?
Why smart phones mostly are dumber than a stump,
with modern technology sprouting like fly larva daily
encouraging us to become more dependent on it
than anyone could have dreamed of a decade ago,
creating cosmic impatience with any wait beyond five seconds,
fanning creativity in some and instant boredom without
constant stimulation in others?
Sure, I could go on and on and on,
but what would be the sense in that?
Glenn Buttkus
July 2012

Posted over on dVerse Poets-MTB

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?

15 comments:

Marbles in My Pocket said...

No; really, Glenn. Tell us what you think. Ha! Magnificent tirade! I love it!

Mama Zen said...

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Brian Miller said...

anyone that says they understand anything is surely mad....there is not much sense...esp common sense in our world today...so please do go on and give us some more of your 2 cents...smiles..

Steve Piper said...

LOL, you totally nailed the dverse prompt, dude, I'm loving the topicality of this poem.

rosemary mint said...

"Cajun poutine without hot sauce?
Old age? Adolescent angst?" ... Amen to that.

"and then being tossed back into the cauldron
of arachnid archaic asinine politics" ... Awesome sound here.

"Labeling things jumbo shrimp
or government intelligence?" ... Love this. :)

"Jackson Pollock’s frenetic drippings?" ... This is what my poem's about. :)

"Rev. Mel Lewis holding a White Christian’s Conference
in Alabama?" ... I don't even know who that is, and I live there.

"Meg Ryan turning down the lead in PRETTY WOMAN?" ... Are you serious?! I love her to pieces, along with that movie (and Julia Roberts).

"Trying to decide whether to whistle or have sex in cemeteries?" ... Is there really any question?!

PERFECT ending:
"encouraging us to become more dependent on it
than anyone could have dreamed of a decade ago,
creating cosmic impatience with any wait beyond five seconds,
fanning creativity in some and instant boredom without
constant stimulation in others"

You definitely captured the modern world! Great to see you writing, Glenn. I've missed you.

Lane Savant said...

Hay! I'm not a fucking robot.

Lane Savant said...

Learn to love absurdity.

Lane Savant said...

Hay! I'm not a fucking robot.

aprille said...

Let's start a club!
"Grumpy old poets anon".

Yes, that about sums up life in the 21st century.
Out of that lot, I can just about cope with Jack the Dripper, and possibly Sartre, but the rest is spot on.
We stopped off in a pub last night, on the way home, for a portion of French fries and a beer.
£58 [$90] for the fries (included meat, but we are vegetarian and they couldn't serve the fries without the meat), so we thought the better of it and cooked them ourselves.
Your gas is 50% cheaper than ours.

Lane Savant said...

Why does Google always post my comments twice?
Why does Google always post my comments twice?
Why does Google always post my comments twice?
Why does Google always post my comments twice?
Why does Google always post my comments twice?
Ya happy yet, Barney?

John (@bookdreamer) said...

Better now!

chazinator said...

Now there you go again, being all complicated and stuff. The questions really begin to form a cadence and they come with greater and greater force. The ending is not simply rhetorical, I think, for I think it reflects so much question about life's meaning in this oh so modern world.

lucychili said...

yes. it is very strange to be human

Margaret said...

I don't think I have every enjoyed a tirade so much! Yes, keep going... :)

janetleigh said...

Exactly!