Poem creates the escape
hatchery of ideas—a frayed
patience, a silver sliver dithering,
a small fry leap over
the enclosure bank, a moment mid-
air, fin wings—
but if Poem were farmed, he wouldn’t
be Poem.
By the shoreline, cool and swift
the current’s curve of neural swirl,
that’s where Poem rests.
"Poetry recall literally affects dozens"
2 comments:
I'm still waiting for "Poem with a Hangover", perhaps after a bar-room brawl with Song Lyrics, Cliche, and Rhyme.
yeah, wrote that one and threw it out. maybe ill try again . . .
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