https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2022-02-05T18_32_21-08_00
I’m in it for blood as my hands become covered in the consonants and vowels of a billion unborn poems.
There’s no denying poets play God as we enter the operating theater praying "Day of the Locusts" is not in the mix.
“I'm a steamroller baby; I'm 'bout to roll all over you.”
I believe it’s my moxie turning people off, that and the stench of
fearlessness wafting off of me from all the poets I’ve left in the
beaten down, academic dust.
Irascibility is my middle name because I learned a long time ago making
friends will get you absolutely nowhere as they stab you in the back for
their fifteen minutes in the unbleached sun.
Hank Williams Sr. had it right dying of a heart attack at the age of 29 in the backseat of his 1952 powder blue Cadillac.
I’m in it for blood; fuck the glory and the megalomania oftentimes
rearing its ugly head as you win another 5 games on Jeopardy! while
forsaking all of your heart torn followers.
There’s something to be said about going gentle into that good night
especially if you’re a drunk and always make a mess of things while
attempting to get it right.
“Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you. Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you.”
Charles Cicirella
2/5/2022
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