Wednesday, June 2, 2010

When is a poem truly abandoned?

When the poet doesn't show up, the work isn't done.

When the cook decides not to; abandonment being so different than marinade.

So, what's cooking with you, poetry-wise?

1 comment:

  1. day off

    when things soak, they change
    and so the rain the other day
    damped me down, made me slow
    in my steps around the city

    I kept on walking, just to soak
    the socks and shoes that sped me
    so many times across the courts
    because? I could not tell you why.

    And that is the thing about rain,
    and about soaking, and about an empty dish
    that used to hold some matches, pebbles,
    or a cufflink upside down.

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