Poetry Only As Old As You Feel

The Poet as Methuselah

—for Joe Hutchison

Honestly, I’m an old man

But I’m not really

That old.

I was just

Feeling my age when

These lines came to me,

Forever young.

Faced with Below the Belt Criticism, the Besmirched Poet Retaliates

You cocky fly you—

Fouling

My immaculate sheets

Of verse—I swear

Before my hour’s through,

Your shit shall be maculating

The fan too.

Back by Popular Demand

After four months, still saying goodbye.

Traces (7)

Blockhead Existentialism

The tree was always there when

You needed it

Until you became a stump.

~~~~~

Truce

The poem

Wants nothing

From you

But to meet it

On its own

Terms—

Unconditional

Surrender.

~~~~~

Waiting for a Bite

Whenever I throw out a line,

I always hope

Something will be left when

The poem decides

To reel me in.

~~~~~

Concentration Means Resolution

Let the first thing

That enters your mind

Stay there.

~~~~~

True North

So easy to be misled

By aimless wandering,

But then again, no one

Ever found himself by

Using a compass.

NB: A note on Traces: Time to leave, hopefully not without having left a trace.

Traces (6)

Share and Share Alike

You say it’s ours

For the keeping, I say since when

And then why

Are you going to throw it my way?

~~~~~

As Long As It Lasts

So how much

Are you willing to wager

It won’t go away?

I bet you don’t even know

The time of day.

~~~~~

Under the Volcano

See, I told you

You would not

Enjoy the view.

~~~~~

Inspiration

Breathless, waiting dumbly

To be struck

Dead in the head.

~~~~~

Aporia of the Man with the Closed Mind

I know

The good book says God is

Both A and Ω and thus

Readily accessible

To anyone at any point

In their life but why

Is there no table of contents?