I watch myself how I use my voice how
much I give away rebellion weighs
against obedience prayer against fantasy
rote against the thrill of words that lately arrive
It was hearing a girl recite Ode to a Cabbage
that made me want to write verse myself
I hide my poems like hoarded love
the taste of secrecy is delicious (Nun-
the-Big-Irish gives the girl curry
when she catches her
Comments
Post a Comment