The Impotent Poet
sputtering poetry,
the impotent poet
tells me, she was
“…puttering around Pittsburg.”
potent poetry. perhaps,
alluring alliteration
potentially portends
the winch to wind up
this bucket of water.
diviner twitches, dips,
dares to deviate
direct, dilate.
like a mad scientist, moronic
not to move these ready-made
sputters into a test tube, shake
and let them explode!
an avid, alliterative logophile
holds the power to possess,
to render the procession of
spoken word into usefulness.
alert to the prowess of moving lips,
gears cranking creativity and giddiness,
glad tidings go on and on, when
sputtered with regards to my sister’s trip.
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