I have written a poem
things I do not want to do with my aching eyes
look at screens
guess what you’re thinking
I woke with these words in my head — don’t use pity as a placebo —
profound? or just dream-jumble?
I only have big thoughts
when distracted or half-asleep
is it my soul at the door? no. it is my body
which is my mind
I could not think of so many words today — words gone missing, gone
why do poems always need to be called by their form?
not always, but often enough to cause me to want to rebel and say no!
but I almost never say no.
I say I don’t know
I say let me think about that
I say sure or ok or why not
no! no! no!
you are not said thing
you are not epistle or sonnet
you are you and you are at the door
PS If you want to listen to a Poem-a-Day, here’s how.