Eckes’s Poem

The poet, like many in education’s grip, Faces another summer with pockets stripped. In Eckes’s poem, two forms meet face to face: The unemployment office, a dreary place. Insults and banalities fill its lines, An object of necessity, far from fine. The poetic form stands firm and tried, Resisting demands that are not true. No easy answers will I provide, Humor and pleasure within I hide. Despite my state of what is real, I dare to dream, to think, to feel. As the poem now unfolds, it starts to show why most can't show. The life that’s possible, the seeds that grow. Not just survival, but living free, Beyond what the bureaucratic form can see. I have captured the struggle, the raw, the true, The grim realism of what poets go through. In the clash of ink, a truth is found, In poetry’s embrace, my heart's unbound.