Tuesday, September 6, 2022

Frugal Poetic Fragility

Apart from his writing, 
Which always seemed to stop
Short of going somewhere, 
He spent most of his time 
Wandering from used bookstore 
To bookstore looking 
For cheap editions, till one day 
He happened upon a slender volume 
Of his he had forgotten 
He’d once inscribed and gifted 
To an elder, much better- 
Known poet whose work he admired 
Almost as much as his own, 
And which now lay half-buried 
Under a stack of thicker, more 
Impressive-looking tomes of poetry, 
All penned by that very same distinguished 
Gentleman poet who--would you have it?-- 
Just happened to be quite dead:
Had he too, wasted his life?

 

2 comments:

  1. Who is the "he" in the last line: the dead poet, or the living poet, or both, or both plus every reader (no matter the gender) (and how many readers are likely not to be poets?). This short story of a poem is haunting and not a word is wasted or dead.

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  2. Your questions re who the protagonist(s) of the last line is/are, are almost as haunting! Thank you for asking them.

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