the forgotten ones

the forgotten ones

 

 

a very rickety desk

the Underwood

sits Over wood

the old keys

savoring the touch

of two-fingered inspiration

 

but the arthritic poet

dementia in his bones

can only gaze through cataracts

at the machine

with which he used to be one

the relationship a consorting

 

of lines, ribbons, carriages

the babies, his poems

many grew up to publish themselves

with a slight nod

to their ancestry

but now they lie on pages

 

almost as old as he

father, sons, daughters

between covers

trying not to get cold

before they are buried

with nary a figment

 

of notoriety.

 

 

erin-cilberto

4/1/25

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Love how you say ‘the babies, his poems ‘
Loved this one Jacob a favourite now

[Desert Knave]

This one kind of talks to me. I have always wondered how many people's complete writing history has been tossed away by a relative who thought it was just a box of paperwork / junk. ~Jim