Jan Oskar Hansen Poet Blank verse

Looking For a Poem

Looking for a Poet  

In Alexandria, the town before Washington, I waited for 
the bus, it didn’t stop, but then it did and my face was the
whitest one on the bus. I had the address of a bar where 
a famous poet used to frequent, but he was not there he was
at his yearly stay at a mental institution.

I had brought some poems with me wanted him to read,
this was years ago I was young  and thought I was unique.
Blessed days do no rob a young man of his dream.
After a few pitchers of beer, I got up and tried to read me 
work, but the noise and no one listened. 

I was ignored like someone walking naked through town 
and no seem to notice. I was told to leave. The police,
 criticised now, drove me to Alexandria and to my ship. 
I shook hands and with the police officers to give the impression 
of fame. In the crew’s eyes, I was famous but the skipper 
was still a teetotal ass.

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