To The Poets
In our quest to tell it slant
we go too far and become
obtuse then wonder why
people don’t read poetry.
No one needs the cookies on
the lowest shelf where the
dogs can get them, but up
on the counter by the crystal
drinking glasses that were a wedding gift, and that one glass with a chip in the side that you use every day and fill with milk so cold it burns your teeth but the burning is
an endurable goodness you’ve learned to cherish as your days grow shorter upon the earth.
drinking glasses that were a wedding gift, and that one glass with a chip in the side that you use every day and fill with milk so cold it burns your teeth but the burning is
an endurable goodness you’ve learned to cherish as your days grow shorter upon the earth.
You’re making us love poetry again and even believe that we might try our unpracticed hand. Yours is surely an endurable goodness ~ and more.
Wonderful! Once upon a time, I wrote a doctoral dissertation on (obtuse) modernist and contemporary poetry, but I find that the poetry I’m still reading in my post-academic life is this chipped crystal poetry – the kind that offers immediate rewards but also rewards multiple readings.
It probably goes without saying, but yours always makes that cut.
Thank you.
What Christie said. Love it.
I’m lactose intolerant. The milk metaphor is lost on me.
A poem on the counter where we can take a cool drink.
LIcking my milk mustache!