Why Must I Toss Through Turning Pages

Why must I toss through turning pages

the mid-night thoughts of feverish bards,

hell-bent for Aphrodite's pleasure;

why dance with clumsy feet

some jig of rhythm-less ballerinas,

if all my aches amount to nothing but

more ill-measured anthems?

Why bend the moon,

twist stars beyond

the sight of men too cold

to wallow in imagination--

because those bits of words

left unspoken, swallowed

too quick to be digested,

leave my poet's gut

and bowels too unsettled

come the morning's first sweet smelled ablutions.

Ken e Bujold

© 2022

Reviews

[W. Barrett Munn]

Ain’t it the truth. When those bits and pieces are ignored they fly off to find someone who cares enough to write them down.

Winston