
“Great Pretender”
Your lines, they got no steam.
They reside in low places.
Waiting for credit they didn’t earn.
There’s no life in them.
They can’t compete.
Floating flaccid and flavorless.
Chewed out gum,
stuck to the bottom of a gnarly Chuck Taylor smelling of burnt tungsten and dried oregano.
Pretension worries but doesn’t sweat.
Poems need sweat.
It’s as if you lived and learned nothing.
No passion.
No life.
A litany of envy, thick.
A paucity of hope that you could do well if given a chance.
But the thing is, though,
you were given many chances.
You chose to say you were something, rather than work at being it.
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Published by Christopher Hickey
Welcome to my effort. Yes, as a great procrastinator, it requires great effort to stay focused on something productive that matters to me. I’ll find any old excuse to traipse from project to project, and I rarely end up at the place I started. I find this maddening, and exhaustive. So it is with high hopes, and a greater grasp of self-awareness, that I embark upon staying the course so to speak.
I enjoy writing. Be it blogs, fiction, poetry, etc. I love the craft and the act of creation, the art in and of itself, for it’s own sake and end. I am happy to be able to do it.
Some stats:
Born: March 1974
Education:
St.Francis de Sales, Charlestown MA
Don Bosco Technical High School, Boston MA
University of Massachusetts at Lowell, Lowell MA
Bunker Hill Community College, Charlestown MA
DePaul University, Chicago, IL
North Virginia Community College, Arlington VA
Harvard Extension School, Cambridge MA
Place of residence: Somewhere in the land of metro Boston. It’s vaguely familiar and becoming home more and more by the day, but when you come from “The Town” all else fails by comparison.
Favorite Color: I’m partial to all forms of blue.
Favorite Author: c’mon! don’t expect me to answer that, there are too many.
I enjoy memories of playing 80’s Atari better than playing any advanced gaming system that exists today.
Some day:
Hope to be recognized for my paper clip collection. As well as my 27 rejected applications to Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailiey Clown college.
View all posts by Christopher Hickey
I’m so vain, I probably think this poem is about me.
Definitely might be about y…naw still more m…naw, it’s about the others out there; cold fronting and perpetrating
I just wrote a poem. It has sweat in it.
“Poems need sweat.”
Perspiration beats inspiration every time.