The Poet

So, here you are, rubbing words
against words to see the sparks
they create in a world gone cold
without meaning. One day,

you noticed you were alone.
You read aloud, throwing your words
at the lamps, breaking dishes
with their velocity. They bounced
off walls in search of ears, keeping
you awake at night. You knew

you had to find someone, anyone
to lend them to. You packed your articles,
verbs, adjectives, into used grocery bags,
and took them into the streets. You left
your first bag to a man wearing a grey suit
on the church’s marble steps. The next bag,

you left at the feet of a homeless man sleeping
next to a boarded up shop. You handed them out
smiling, joyous. You did not flinch when a woman
with a pug on the end of a pink leash dropped
hers into the trash can. You gave your words
freely to all you passed, and went home to finally sleep.


Filed under Musings, poetry

8 responses to “The Poet

  1. Yep. Like this very much.

  2. this is so good. so good.

    i came by to tell you to have fun tomorrow night reading with nathan. i’m so jealous when my poetry pals manage to get together. we must invent some sort of teleporter.

    (and i hope i do not get confused with the rude lady in the poem. i have a pug. but i would never walk her on a pink leash. i would never throw your words in the trash.)

  3. I like this very much. The idea of the poet giving their words away on the street is a great one.

  4. “You packed your articles,
    verbs, adjectives, into used grocery bags,
    and took them into the streets”

    Excellent lines.

  5. uhm, yeah, what carolee said about the pug. although lucky would love to have a pink leash; he is such a queen!

    can’t wait to hear you and nathan read tonight!

    and oh, yeah, i should get back to our elvis poem….

  6. deb

    Damn, I love this.

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