The Poets

I wanted to try something a bit less serious than usual.....

We are wordcrunchers

We boil books for breakfast

We limp through unlit streets and seek stanzas in  bins behind libaries

We bang  vending machines to make them spew words 

Instead of socks we wear newspapers

(But only the ones with an upper class touch)

We hit small children to make them speak like Shakespeare

We will never be rich or famous

but die of TBC in attics in Paris.

We might even shoot our girlfriends or fall in love

with our sisters.

We are,

worst of all,

easy to hurt.

 

Reviews

[Valentine]

Fantastic. There were many writers and painters in my family. I could see parts of their personalities in this write. Valentine

[Michael G.]

I wasn't aware when you invaded my mind and read my thoughts behind why I do some of the things I do and say. But, obviously you were there.

Next time let me know of your arrival, and we can share a walk... or a cup of coffee. At present, Mr. McKuen is talking about "The Sea," in the background. (I know, I'm on a strange tangent this morning. Please excuse the weirdness.)
Excellent poem.

[Circe]

you make a passionate song, these are romantic and crazy imageries that fit perfectly.. sorry for lack of better review, I admire completely to the last..

[symmetryAsymmetry]

Of all the above...I wanna try "shooting our girlfriends". Definitely sounds fun to me.
I love your style of writing...I read many of your poems but they are beyond my understanding...this one though, I could grasp and love!

[Pendantry]

Typo on 'libaries'. Here's hoping this don't hurt :)

[Emily Rae]

Playful, endearing write

[Dream Weaver]

No tougher trade to be in... we must be analytical political melancholy elated heartrending and so much more and with that being said, you've captured most of it with great depth and feel...

[WhiteWillow]

You paint the mind and imagination of a poet, a broad picture with a fine brush. Beautiful piece of work!

[Cyrano]

you are right to use the word "we". it signifies your inclusion in the ranks of poets and rightfully so.