notion 45.
will
i
am
not,
but
carlos
i
have
been,
but
could
not
will
to
am to be
like
william
carlos
williams.
could
not
will
to
enjoy,
get lost.
why
did
so much depend
upon
a
red
wheelbarrow.
i ams,
i is,
but
could
not
will
to be,
to say
i am
what i
could never be,
and
never was.
in america,
was i,
am i
an american?
poet?
o’ america
could i
will
to see myself
in your own
image?
i am
not
my
will-
the self
long
murdered
after
longing
for
someone else’s
self,
so
as to
feel more american.
uncle sam
was not
designed
in my image.
in fact,
it was designed
to crush my
image.
not in my name,
so how
did i will
to speak
under confused
tongues?
willing,
god willing
to pull the wool
over our eyes,
america,
oh say (josé),
can you see
how blind
you have been?
you have grown?
whitman’s america
wilted.
what walt?
and
i
could not
will to be
like
williams
just another
american poet.
i’ll
will to be
like
blake, rimbaud, kerouac, borges, ginsberg,
baraka
of the
world,
of the
americas.
oh say, i
do see
how this
country
never wanted
me.
07.24.2005.
UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s) 
Every time one of your poems hits me it’s like.god.damn! I want to say it’s… good shit! But net-correctness holds me back. I love the William Carlos Williams red wheelbarrow reference. That’s deep shit, man. Kerouac, Borges, Ginsberg, the latin-in-america not Ame
R
Ican (a smartphone typo, but fitting) really kills me. Because.it.is.me.
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Thank you so much for the comment. Very much appreciate the kind words, and so glad with the fact you were able to relate to the poem so well. When I was younger I worried a lot more about the writer I wanted to be. The US has bred some amazing poets, but when I think of America I think of the continents, and thus see my identity as an American writer in a much broader sense. If that makes any sense.
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That last statement made perfect sense. When I was younger, I imagined myself a poet/writer of the American dream. Being raised as a military brat (my dad was in the US Army), I couldn’t distinguish myself from the rest of the kids I grew up with. I used to try to write like Mark Twain, Woodie Guthrie, Dylan, Thomas Wolfe, Kerouac, all the great American writers. But I kept those writings to myself, maybe thinking of my late mother’s words to just be who you are. But we are Americans, maybe more so than the Europeans, since our forefathers were here long before Columbus. So this adds another layer to our credibility. I think too of William Carlos Williams, John dos Passos and even Kerouac, who was of Canadian descent. How they wrote the American Novel. There is hope for us yet.
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Thought-provoking, as always. You make people think.
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Maybe it has to do with being a teacher perhaps. Lol. But really, thank you so much. If I achieve anything at all with my poems, making people think is quite a formidable task. So again thank you.
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Teachers are the best, and I’m sure you challenge your students daily. May I inquire the subject(s) you teach?
I feel like I gush over your writing at times, but then I think why wait until it’s too late to tell someone — in that moment — that their work means something, has something to say, makes you think. So I do because I think people don’t hear it often enough.
Cheers!
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