every great or awful day in poetry

the liminal is luminous
we only see at all because
something called light can’t
make its mind up if it is
a particle or a wave
ambiguity is the vehicle of meaning
without the instability of being
everything’s settled and dull
unilluminated indeed

we are just all
parsing words like Parsifal
looking for meaning as if it were
an attainable eternal grail when
the truth lay in the
friction of our searches

art does not come from suffering
don’t you dare tell me that
the dark days coming will be
at least great for the sake of art
no art is worth the pain that’s coming and
babydoll, there is always great art
there is always great art everywhere
in good times and in times of terror
art rooted in suffering tends to SELL
sure
but never mistake selling for greatness
suffering sells for whatever reason
but art is not suffering and
suffering is not art and
what sells is just
what sells

what is real and what is true
is as wavering as the light
unable to decide if its
a particle or wave
shining for us anyway
every single great
or awful day