This Way is Just Fine

This way is just fine

I’ve been thinking about poetry. In my early stuff, I was so eager to sound smart— like an English aristocrat. So, I would search the internet for archaic words and force them into my vernacular, so that my prose and poetry would be more beautiful and sophisticated. I used words like “harken” and “cully” and “thee” and “unto” like, way too often. I only read classic British literature from pre-1900 because I thought that made me smarter and betterer. But, truthfully, all of the well-to-do, fuddy-duddy, non-sense conventions in these writings were natural enemies to my wandering mind. I really could not give less of a hoot about The Mayor of Casterbridge in the middle of a migraine after a night of insomnia or in the middle of any of the other crap my body pulls (or violently expels) So, I’ve given up writing in perfect iambic tetrameter and trying to sound like Shakespeare— that all kinda sucks anyway. What was I doing, trying to make the language of the colonizer home in my mouth. I have realized I can write just like this. Sincere, free, This way is just fine. A fine way to share the thoughts in my pretty little head.