You can call this a poem.

You can call this a poem.

See? I already failed.

It is so hard to write something without feeling like

I'm coming across as pretentious or like

I'm trying too hard to be a "real poet".

Is that insane?

Is it crazy to feel like a pretentious asshole

just because you think that you might be coming across

that way to people you've never met?

Sometimes I write a poem and then when I'm done,

I look at it and think "Wow, you sound like you're trying too hard".

And then I wonder if I am. Like right now, is this too much effort?

Should "art" come effortlessly? What makes this a poem?

Is it egotistical to write a poem at all?

Am I assuming that people will take the time to read this,

and if so, is that an arrogant assumption?

These are real questions.

Maybe I should just write exactly what I want,

without wondering if people will "get" it.

But then I feel like it sounds pretentious,

like "Hey, check out how deep and mysterious I am."

I'm gonna end this poem, or whatever this is,

exactly the way I want, with a sentence that I will enjoy reading tomorrow,

even if I look like an asshole, because how you appear and

how you truly are have nothing to do with each other,

unless you want them to.

There is no way you could look at me and know me.

My insides look nothing like my outsides.

For instance, could you tell by looking at me that

I cried when I saw the movie "Remember Me"?

You know, that one with Robert Pattinson, the guy from the Twilight movies.

Well, it's true. A tear fell from my eye.

Maybe admitting embarrassing things like that is the secret

to writing things that are worth reading.

Because I think that people want to read what's real.

I know I do.

So here's the sentence, written for me, not you. But you can enjoy it too:

A gorilla, dressed in drag, was break dancing in the moonlight

behind my eyes, behind a sky of black, which is a machete.

Photo by Fred Watford.  Words by Randy Conner.