Monday, February 21, 2011


reading favorite guys
like judd and creeley
writing how they build
architecture and poetry and nothing

they say makes
any sense to me.

it's not in theory
but in practice
they get to me.

maybe when minimalists try
to get expansive and shit
their hearts aren't in it.

it's only in the open
question, the middle-
ground of wonder where
the addled, searching mind
can for once recline that
these men and their ideas reside:

in words struck stationary and statues
set solidly on solitary expanses of land
where no one was ever
intended to stand.


trishag said...

i want to take a nap and cover myself up with this poem.

Scott Hess said...

That's an awesome sentiment! Thanks.