I think I understand poetry now. See, I was walking down Main Street smoking my newly bought Marlboro lights, and composing some lines in my head (that's the only time I really write, is when I'm walking alone. I start on one thought and progress from there in walking meter: Hey let's talk about Buddha got a kitty made of tin; got eyes as black as Poloroids before the picture comes in). I started thinking of Anne reading "America" on the park bench in Fell's Point, and I realized that I was thinking of "America" the same way that I think of songs: as a whole, an entity separate from its creator. Like, "Man, 'What Goes On' is a really great song." Something from The Velvets' mind which is now in mine. And I was thinknig of "America" in the same way, as a really cool whole that exists only in words but creates a concept in my mind. I could then think of other poems in the same way, although not many, because I really havent' read much poetry. It makes me want to pick up my Norton Anthology again.

Where do the motherfuckin cheese go at? Where'd the motherfuckin cheese go at? Motherfucker. Where do motherfuckin cheese go to? Bitch where the motherfuckin cheese at? Motherfucker. Where'd the motherfuckin cheese go at?