Why Are Trees? – A Disc Golf Poem by Nathan Sexton | SHOWMEZ | E2 | Jomez
Nathan Sexton's poem "Why Are Trees?" is a thought-provoking disc golf poem that explores the nature of existence and reality. The poem stems from his own struggles with feeling lost after playing in the Hall of Fame Classic, where he took 30th place. Inspired by his introspective state, Sexton crafts a poignant narrative that delves into the intricacies of life, questioning "why are trees?" - a question that may seem simple yet holds profound complexity. The poem touches on themes of logic, reality, and the human condition, as Sexton grapples with finding answers to life's most fundamental questions. Disc golf fans will appreciate the unique perspective of this disc golf poet, who weaves his passion for the sport into a powerful exploration of the human experience.
Watch Nathan Sexton's hilarious poem about disc golf from E2. A unique spin on the game featuring iconic 'Trees'.
Watch on YouTubeVideo Transcript
it was after playing at I did you see for the Hall of Fame classic I took like 30th place I barely cash like every time I've ever played there I was in a dark place I was I was not being the professional I wanted to be so you know I was scared and I turned my thoughts inward and I and I that came out of me I don't know a little poem so that's kind of the headspace where this poem is coming from why are trees if you ask me what our trees I'll tell you right quick woody plants by the billions some thin and some thick how are trees you retort and I'd tell you that to a story of seeds pollinators and small starts that grow where are trees you'd then query that you can't prove go outside there are trees and if not you should move I sit back and recline having answered each question but a smirk starts to form as you look my direction you open your mouth and you utter these words why are trees in an instant unchanged at a loss and befuddled the picture I'd painted so clearly is muddled why is anything here why is anything not how can I answer without weeks of thought I must tell you I don't know as I fall to my knees I'm haunted I'm sleepless I'm adrift on the sees reality drifts off and up out and back all logic is gone in each night I'm attacked I'm shaking I'm shivering I'm starting to freeze the only thing left now is to scream why our trees
