Replying to a comment on:
father Worked Nights
(
Free verse
) by
poetandknowit
father lived in a factory. he would pound, pound and pound all night long, never stopping, never saying why. Laugh and scream, pound and pound -- no lunch hour, not even a coffee break. Pound and pound, using the cat and mother for his steel.
Christof
12-Sep-02/5:51 AM
Was that my point? No, it wasn't. My point was, I can't pretend to be urban working class and a witness to domestic violence and then write about because I would be a fraud if I did. If you know about these, good for you, crack on. I'm lucky enough not to. So lay off my birds! And if you think there's some kind of special superiority inherent in your experience, then you're falling into all kinds of Romantic fallacies about the artist and suffering.
Track and Plan your submissions
;
Read some Comics
;
Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001