Arse Poetica

Jesse Doiron

June 27, 2021

I’ll play the poet’s part,

and stay apart,

away,

in my apartment.

I’ll smile knowingly

and jot down words

which mean

something,

in particular.

I will be seized

with seizures of solemnity,

juxtaposed jocularity.

I will laugh too loudly.

I will drink too much.

I will smoke kinnickinnic

and nicotine, 

till Clarity comes.

And then, 

I’ll dance with her.

I’ll dance near to her,

nearer to her than anyone, 

nearly to dawn,

when,

as vampires do, 

I’ll hide.

Because of this,

snide people, 

who pass by, 

will sneer:

“My, my . . . 

So queer!

You know,

he thinks himself 

a poet”

Jesse Doiron spent 13 years overseas in countries where he often felt as if he were a “thing” that had human qualities but couldn’t communicate them. He teaches college, now, to people a third his age. He still feels, often, as if he is a “thing” that has human qualities but can’t communicate them.