American Robin

I’ll be honest

I really f*****g hate when poems are

centered

even more I hate when poets

dress words with lipstick

and blush

curly queues

and catnip

 

yesterday, my cat

brought me a live

American Robin

that flailed about

orange belly up

cradled in his

mouth

 

he squeaked

and flapped in his

hold

gray /white

feathers flying

everywhere 

 

I was every bit as

happy as I was

sad, like when I

read a good poem

 

I can see the

bird gets away,

but not

unchanged

Reviews

[Clockwork]

I like how blunt this poem is about other poems. You clearly display to your reader that you are unafraid to show life as it happens, without glossing over the gritty details.

Your images are concrete, very down to earth, which really helps advance the tone you established in the first stanza.

Your ending stanza is my favorite. You show how every event changes parts of the world, and how that change should be reflected in poetry. One of my favorites from you.

[K. Louis]

it's been a while clock! Thanks for the nice words..hope you are well.

[Clockwork]

Yes, its been a whole lot of time. I'm checking in with the writers I read last summer. Glad to see you are still here! I'm doing well. You?

[K. Louis]

I'm here. I'm well. :)

[Clockwork]

Awesome :-)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is very cool...i agree with the sentiment about poems...i believe the words should and will speak for themselves, if given a chance...the reader might get away,---- but if the words are good enough,----- not unchanged...