23 November 2012

An Old Poet Pens a Letter

my job was not
to free you but
to confine you

not to trigger
but to have you

see what I see
and hear as I
do to bring you

under my sway
so come into
my cell first and

look and touch and
remember and
then step up on

the stool and pull
yourself up by
the black window

bars and for as
long as your arms
hold out keep watch

over the yard
at ground level
it’s better than

a Romper Room
magic mirror
you can stroll through

the garden with
the visitors
and guards later


  1. I like this one very much. I like the feel of poet as criminal, prisoner, as something dangerous. Very nice turn on the hertofore benevolent concept.

    1. Hey Amber,
      Thank you for your attentive reading. There is more work to be done here, I think (i.e., in the the relationship between writers and readers). Perhaps there is a level of violence on both ends of the exchange - in some cases, the writer seeks to impose a vision, while the reader seeks to pick and choose and run away with a souvenir that they can re-use or re-purpose for their own ends. Need to cogitate more on this.