"I am not inspired, ever."
Chen, I was doing perfectly well until “a kite for sore lives,” and then Symposium arrived.
Honestly, what was I supposed to do with the rest of my day?
Désolé.
What a goofy and beautifully heartfelt poem that makes light and brings to mind so much despair in such a relaxed and approachable manner.
Had to google the French ending. I knew it would be worth it. 😂
You may not be inspired, but your brilliance is a light for the world! Thank you!
This poem reads like an email reply that got tired of being polite and decided to be honest instead.
What grabbed me right away was the dry humour — that “I am not inspired, ever” feels so perfectly fed‑up and funny.
There’s this sense of someone who’s been asked the same questions far too many times and is finally letting the sarcasm breathe.
I love how the poem jumps from climate doom to French jokes to a pug named Symposium without losing its rhythm.
The humour feels messy in the best way, like a mind thinking out loud and not bothering to tidy anything up.
Underneath all the jokes, though, there’s a quiet truth about the pressure queer writers get to explain themselves.
He handles that weight with a kind of weary charm, never bitter, just sharply aware.
The moment he rewrites the cliché mid‑line feels incredibly human — like catching yourself being predictable and laughing at it.
By the end, it feels less like a poem and more like a conversation you weren’t expecting to enjoy this much.
It leaves you with the sense that humour is his way of staying afloat — and somehow, it makes you feel lighter too.
Tres bien. Trop reel!
So fresh and original! Love it!
C'est chouette!
O les vaches! Tellement fantastique! Vive les sexualités! Heureuse Fierté!
Chen Chen, like no one else, thank you
Chen, I was doing perfectly well until “a kite for sore lives,” and then Symposium arrived.
Honestly, what was I supposed to do with the rest of my day?
Désolé.
What a goofy and beautifully heartfelt poem that makes light and brings to mind so much despair in such a relaxed and approachable manner.
Had to google the French ending. I knew it would be worth it. 😂
You may not be inspired, but your brilliance is a light for the world! Thank you!
This poem reads like an email reply that got tired of being polite and decided to be honest instead.
What grabbed me right away was the dry humour — that “I am not inspired, ever” feels so perfectly fed‑up and funny.
There’s this sense of someone who’s been asked the same questions far too many times and is finally letting the sarcasm breathe.
I love how the poem jumps from climate doom to French jokes to a pug named Symposium without losing its rhythm.
The humour feels messy in the best way, like a mind thinking out loud and not bothering to tidy anything up.
Underneath all the jokes, though, there’s a quiet truth about the pressure queer writers get to explain themselves.
He handles that weight with a kind of weary charm, never bitter, just sharply aware.
The moment he rewrites the cliché mid‑line feels incredibly human — like catching yourself being predictable and laughing at it.
By the end, it feels less like a poem and more like a conversation you weren’t expecting to enjoy this much.
It leaves you with the sense that humour is his way of staying afloat — and somehow, it makes you feel lighter too.
Tres bien. Trop reel!
So fresh and original! Love it!
C'est chouette!
O les vaches! Tellement fantastique! Vive les sexualités! Heureuse Fierté!
Chen Chen, like no one else, thank you