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About This Poem
Would You Think Less of Me As A Poet
Would you think less of me if I told you their names…
I sat there for hours looking smashingly sophisticated
drinking expensive caffeinated drinks
My long chestnut eyelashes resting on my Foster Grants
Reading Nobel laureates and others poets blessed with Allen Ginsberg’s waxy seal of
approval
I read for hours ad nauseum
Nothing bled through
It was just god awful…
Their poetry was dead to me
I needed something alive!
There they were- poems of all shapes and sizes
and promises to enrich my gray intellectually
anthologies
&
morphologies
&
6 long centuries of prose
Embossed in gold and promised that they would live on forever
…oh, no!
I would rather ride home naked in the back of a police cruiser
or maybe wedge razor blades under my finger nails
I almost couldn’t take it any more
It was as though the red velvet sofa I was nestled upon was set afire
I wanted to click my heels three times and instantaneously be home reading the
beloved poems
of
my
friends
from
Poetry Soup
Many do not have their names on the spines of books at expensive book stores
or are available to download to a Nook
Rather they are the souls that have moved me
with their everyday poetry
and the friendship
from their quills
I took.
Written by Gwendolen Rix
1-13-12
Written for Carol Brown’s Contest~What I Love Most About Poetry Soup~
*friendship*
This poem is dedicated to Chris Aechtner
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