Life (Joe Brainard)

This poem, by Joe Brainard, is, as you might guess from the title, about Life. It's a prose poem, though I can easily imagine the lines breaking into more poetic linebreaks. I wonder why he chose to create a prose poem.

There is nothing special about the language (which might make you think 'poem' even when it's done in paragraphs). There is also nothing special about the philosophy. It takes a subject which we all know about and doesn't add much to the telling. Seems a lot like the game, actually.

I really don't understand why this poem was published. How it was picked above another. It seems boring and unskilled. For me, it just does not work.

Favorite line: "When I stop and think about what it's all about I do come up with some answers, but they don't help very much."

WWhen I stop and think about what it's all about I do come up with some answers, but they don’t help very much. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23399#sthash.IRdWZUXP.dpuf

When I stop and think about what it's all about I do come up with some answers, but they don’t help very much. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23399#sthash.IRdWZUXP.dpuf

When I stop and think about what it's all about I do come up with some answers, but they don’t help very much. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23399#sthash.IRdWZUXP.dpuf