Anent Mine Concern For These, My Scribal Children
My most fervent hope is of the species that,
It wonders most powerfully and unceasingly anent the security of
These notebooks containing these selfsame poetic works;
And I hope also, that asleep and secured is how they are put away.
It must be for me to assume, and ah, yes, presume even such.
Forever I must presume their safety, that of these notebooks,
Else the very worst and most maternal ilk of
Patent worry should invariably ensnare and enmesh me:
It should eternally trap and bother me, this
Baldfaced concern for these, my scribal children.
Thus, within the compass of the caliginous fastnesses of
The occluded drawer of my wicker-paneled,
Square and flat-summited nightstand,
They lay at rest; and, when I, of a night or
Even a day, have little use nor need of them;
And whensoever as my stylus has stilled its diurnal or nocturnal
Movement, and is stationary, silent and at rest:
Resting along with these many notebooks:
These cribs and nurseries gently housing and cradling my poetic,
Inscribed progeny, and there is then no hourly
Requisite of further poetic parturition.
Copyright © Douglas Cate | Year Posted 2017
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