There was the one that came to us
in the coffeehouse
and completely eluded both of us
the next day.
And the one this morning. I may
still recall it
when my mind stops racing.
And the one last week when I
was too lazy to
get out of bed at 1AM and write it down.
And the one that visited me while I
was driving 75 mph
down Sunrise Highway and could not
find a pen or a safe place to pull over.
And this one, well this poem, quite frankly sucks!
Does anyone beyond my royal self give a
rat’s ass about my lost poems? (O…Henry
look at the poor poet he’s lost his poems.)
I thought not and let’s be honest,
poems about writing poems really do suck!
And besides there are bigger issues I need to concern myself with!
There are children starving!
And poor civilians somewhere are getting cluster bombed!
And the rainforests are shrinking at an alarming rate!
And the Hudson is still terribly polluted!
And illiteracy and AIDs are twin plagues upon the Earth!
And oppressed people everywhere need freeing!
And everyone should become a vegetarian!
And dammit…what about the holes in the ozone layer?
But you know…I am selfish by nature…I want my fucken poems back!
THE MIND ATTIC 