Happy New Year!
It’s 2015, and in this first week of the year I’ve written around 5,000 words, so I’m pretty happy with that, and I hope I can match or exceed that every week. I’ll be continuing my ‘Thursday Poems’ segment as usual this year, I’m just posting something today because sometimes I write little poems just for fun, the kind I probably won’t submit anywhere and don’t really know what to do with, so I figured to ring in the new year, I’d share this one I wrote last night:
An Established Poet Speaks
Look! Over there.
An Established Poet!
A brass plaque around her neck reads
‘Best before 1983.’
But I look on with envy and awe;
my own neck is empty
of plaques, feels liable to fall apart
without one, as if made of sand
and not blood or meat or bone.
Anyhow, the Poet! Let’s not forget her.
I go over, giddy with excitement
to have a chance to bandy words
with a possible future in the flesh
and in my haste, my naivety,
I vomit jewels into her lap–
words and phrases crafted to perfection,
or as near to it as I can come, or else
of exotic nature and immeasurable value,
the kind mined in Africa someplace–
and she merely looks at the hoard
with bemusement. ‘It’s a nice day,’
don’t you think?’ she said, and left it at that.
Tiny worn pebbles, every word,
but I would spend the next ten years
going over each and every one,
uncertain if, in fact, it had been a nice day.