D. B. DEVILLIERS

Poetry

Month: March, 2015

A Smart Man

I’ll concede that this poem is likely
little more than an
exercise in arrogance
but I’d call myself
a fairly smart man
and I’ve been so told for
a long time
and I’ve been told, too
about the great things I’d do and be
because I’m a smart man.
Well, I haven’t seen much of that
in spite of their best standardized predictors
and I guess I must’ve been
a bit of a
disappointment
when I ended up being a little
less smart
than they’d insisted I was
but I have myself discovered one aspect
of intelligence
that nobody ever told me about
so don’t let anyone tell you
that these things come
without cost.
I’ll admit, I might be wrong
but I doubt it—
see, I’ve found that there’s just one guarantee
with intelligence
and that guarantee is that
it’s pretty
fucking
lonely.

The Ocean

Sometimes
I feel I can relate
to the ocean and its ways;
after all, they say
we know more about what
goes on
on the moon
that we do about
the workings of the deepest
depths
of the ocean.

I guess what I’m trying to say is
that I don’t really know what I’m trying
to say, and that all I really know
is that I don’t really know
all that much
at all
but all that’s okay,
I guess.