Caveat

Trouper, muse on 

This a bit: 

You're a poet only 

When caught in the act 

Of writing; the rest 

Of the time you're just

 

AWOL, derelict 

In your duties--

Get back in line 

Or pack it in, 

Double time.

Poem For The Duration

--for Eleni, forever 

Love remains 

The last word 

In a world that never lasts 

Long enough.

 

Writer's Stinking Rut Grotesque

You know you're in 

A thorny one when 

Everything once rosy's now 

Coming up wilted, decomposing 

In a reeking kitchen sink.

 

 

The Art Of Hearing Amongst The Multitudes

 

Hear, hear--
Odd to be here 

Where each human
Sound sounds 

Like no other--even
The same ones

Can't tell the difference
Between them.

 

 

 

When You Can't Sleep, What Else Can You Do But Write?

Which is what the poet 

Jim Daniels says 

About poets plagued by insomnia 

While on hectic reading tours; well, 

I’ve never been on one but 

I’ve never lost any sleep 

Over it either, so you just might 

Keep in mind that sometimes 

Much of the writing of a poem 

Takes place while you’re sleeping— 

Try sleeping on that for a change.