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Maybe poetry IS dead:Number three in a series

Here we go again, another quick one, this time from November 1998. This poem is a little heavy handed in the symbolism department, but I like it nonetheless. It rather depresses me that I play the 'homoerotic' card to shock (give that I don't find it all that shocking); but I figured that religious iconography, homoerotism and prostitution all add up to something offensive to someone out there. Forgive me, I was young...


Last night

i met Jesus

no time ago.

walking the wall

“Jesus!” i cried.


(inside) mine eyes

fell down

trouser level (the glory!)

Christ stood still

watching my every move.
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Comments

Virginia said…
Kris,
How precious your children are. It looks like you are truly are enjoying while they are so young. The time will fly by and you will have so many memories to cherish.
I taught with a young man from Tazmania two years ago. I am curious if you know him. Email me.
31 July 2008 at 10:51
Debbie Courson Smith said…
I wonder how you assessed your poetry when you were "young." Is there a critique to compare?
31 July 2008 at 10:54
Julie said…
Don't apologise in advance! No need to outline your themes. Rest assured, if it is shite we will tell you.
31 July 2008 at 19:35
Kris McCracken said…
Virginia, I have sent you an e-mail...

Diva, I'm not sure. I know that all of the one's that I have posted to date are ones that I considered 'playful' and not 'serious'. I had a few published in small literary journals around that time, but I look at those ones now and cringe! They seem dreadful to the eye now, whereas then I thought them okay. I was always into prose and short story writing then though. Some of that I think stands up okay today.

Julie, I should hope so!
31 July 2008 at 21:29
Kitty said…
love the b/w, especially.
wow. So striking.
3 August 2008 at 05:03
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