AGAINST POETRY every time someone writes about morning light i want to break something fuck your sensitive observations about kitchen objects fuck your meaningful silences your pregnant pauses your weighted moments fuck your birds especially your birds every single goddamn bird if i see one more poem about watching dust motes in sunbeams i'm burning the whole house down no more cups of tea holding memories no more screen doors in summer no more walking at dawn no more watching your grandmother's hands you're not allowed to mention: windows light through windows rain on windows anything reflected in windows anything seen through windows or any fucking windows at all no more empty rooms filled with echoes of what used to be no more objects holding the weight of everything that's passed between us if you write about the quality of the darkness i will find you no more subtle metaphors no more deep significance no more finding meaning in ordinary things and if you dare to write about writing poetry i swear to god just say the thing or shut up