"Poets, be receptive. Poets, be inventive." ~Nada Gordon
Poets be yammering at each other.
Standing tall, stretching their necks,
poets be primping in my bathroom mirror,
caressing themselves and casting
long shadows on the wall behind me.
Poets be picking breakfast out of their teeth
with paperclips and folded sticky notes.
Watching, waiting for a clue, poets be
wondering what you mean, and why,
and if you know your code is showing.
Poets be brooding, standing on the line,
ready to trade their pretty words for grit
and gristle and piles of mismatched socks.
Poets be polishing the salt lick with raw tongues,
collecting wet bits of grated flesh
in teacups, Mason jars, and empty soda cans.
Poets be ready. Company's coming.
13 hours ago