Ode to the Poet

 

You're sitting on my shelf

between Kerouac and

Plath, all the way to the right.

It's dusty there, just a tad.

Your covers are torn a bit from

wear and

tear.

I don't really clean much unless

I'm expecting someone to inspect the

shelves.

Every so often, you sing softly into my ear even though

they said you were a tough one

who didn't stay married long

and never

liked to lose.

They said you didn't talk much or go to the

movies or make love often in the

mornings.

 

You were usually hungover.

But, that's okay.

I'm usually hungover too.

You usually went to the diners

alone.

But that's okay.

I usually go to the diners alone, too.

You usually cursed out the

teacher and pissed on

buildings.

 

But, that's okay.

I would piss on buildings too

if I had the

courage to be publically

naked.

Reviews

[rutherford]

Imitation as a sincere form of flattery. well crafted homage to a hero. (Mr. B?) Your poems reflect our human qualities, how we are flawed but still great.

One small thing I tripped up on at beginning --the line, "between Kerouac and/Plath, all the way to the right." I likely read this too literally.

[Kara Emily Krantz]

i love this, even if i couldn't figure out who you meant... :) so well done though. the flow is perfect, and the imagery and the way you chose to represent the poet, and how they make you feel.... really well done :)

hugs