Tired of limbs, leaves, and buds, suns, moons and stars?
Stock your poem with magnets, and bottle caps.
Ask what a cow might jump over if not
clumsy and lazy, pregnant or grass full
and ready for milking. Make piles of things
from the backs of drawers and cabinets
like paint cans, matchbooks, dead moths, rubber bands.
And still the seasons and planets will turn,
leaving your piles and inquiries senseless
and easy to toss in the trash, clever
but too inactive to word lines, too
disinterested to show love's beauty.
Distance is necessary for verses,
as are seasons, tree parts, universes.
Posted for Poets United Poetry Pantry #145, and also linked to NaPoWriMo Day 7 where the prompt requires each line to be a declarative sentence. In this poem, I think there are a few.
Copyright © 2013 S.L.Chast