Why Put Up With This Anymore?
Whether it is by spoken words or written ones,
men cannot bring a people together to extract wealth from what is natural,
men cannot pull iron or gold from the darkness that is earth,
men cannot shape steel to climb into the sky on cocktail wings,
men cannot herd men and girls into concrete towers
where nothing grows except their love for each other,
men cannot grow corn or wheat or marijuana or cocaine,
men cannot turn water or fossil fuel to the fiery entertainment of electricity,
men cannot carry their ill-gotten produce from one town into another,
men cannot plant seeds with any expectation of what they will become,
men cannot drive down a highway with no car and no hard surface,
men cannot remember where they are going or that they are alone or not,
men cannot lead invincible armies with evolving weapons,
men cannot even feed themselves or their wives or children
without fluttering your lungs and your lips together
and without your fingers trembling on the edge of something great
and without growing up among others who likewise shape their lips around air,
telling stories that decide who will be the most inclusive mover of words,
whether journalists, engineers, generals, singers, politicians, or presidents,
there are ultimately no others who can come before you
whether it is by spoken words or written ones, Poet,
I cannot understand why you hang your head down
and skulk in alleys eating poverty with your words.
--Jared Smith, from Where Images Become Imbued With Time, 2007
