POETRY READING
The American poet read
Something she called
A desert girl fantasy
I thought it was
A marvelous poem
I tried to contained
The emotions that
Such word stirred
Such as imported images
The second poet
Read about being
A writer
And the struggles
Of such reality
But my favorites
Were his war poems
I mentioned this to him
And he looked at me
With Viet Nam eyes
When it was my turn
I deliberately read
The most awkward
Of my poems
Hoping for the best
And a quick getaway
But an ex bureaucrat
Told me the poems
Where captivating
I asked why
He said it was the
Way I read them
I walked away from him
Got my check
From the host
And got out of there
As fast as I could
Monday, May 11, 2009
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2 comments:
good thing they got your name right :)
Sometimes it is to their advantage...
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