Poem #16: To Rage; Prompt #2: Koch’s Address

To Rage

I found you inside me and tried to kick you out, but each time we fought you brought an accomplice: cars, bigotry, eyeliner, the body of Christ, and heat that would not let me be.

You are too pure to fake.

You ripped a taco from my hand. How could you? That was my lunch. Can’t we talk this out?

Where are you going? I can’t defend myself without you.

Is this a holy lesson, rage?

You can’t trick me into sex, I’m on to you.

Get a goddamned rebound, man.

Don’t crowd me, please – I live here. This is my home and I won’t sleep with earplugs in.

How did that whole “dying of the light” thing work out?

Rage – you rhyme with cage. Did you plan that?

I can’t help laughing at you, I’m sorry.

How can I be a polar bear now?

Your arms are too short to slap-box with God.

I wish I understood you better. Maybe we can work this out.

@NBF 4.29.2009

Venice Beach, 2008

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Notes

This poem’s form is inspired by Kenneth Koch and his collection New Addresses, in which he addresses, directly, many subjects that don’t often get the second-person treatment. I’m going to call this form “Koch’s Address” and invite people to give it a shot.

Allen Ginsberg’s address to America from Howl is phenomenal, especially layered onto Tom Waits’ “Closing Time”:

Allen Ginsberg – “America (Closing Time)”