The Dangerous Pen
Here is a test. Try it.
Oh no! No clock! No device!
This would never happen twice
But here I sit
In a tyre shop
No book to read. No magazine
My purse is tidy now
I know the greeting by the shop phone crew
So what? Just ponder.
It's just a slow leak so no big deal.
Oh know! A pen!
She ripped apart the envelope so the white side became her canvas
Then relaxing, diverting, out
Out, the thoughts spilled from the smooth ball-point
Free - from the community store
And then she thanked the cosmos
Her thoughts more random, less connected every day
But still beautiful and fun.
To laugh at one's own foibles is a joyous passing
What folly to believe in the importance of it all
So poems so deep can silly be
These ones of lark are right for me
nem - Oct 13 in Integra Tire
Whew! That is a relief. What does everyone else do while sitting and waiting. Maybe I should start carrying my knitting (though I shit at knit - tried and failed) to keep me from this perilous habit of writing poems about poems. Check out my metapoetry series at www.mouthethepoem.blogspot.ca from back in 2010. I have many others. It is a neutral habit. Neither good nor bad.
Hah!
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