Nathan Martin Poet I do not know?

Times New Roman

so sterile  the keys as they 
punch, knock out their given slots, 
 each standing upright in line
 like good roman soldiers do.

 as resolute as stone icons 
formidable yet acceptable
 in all the lower 48. 

 times new roman......
 times new roman........ 
me to death, crucify me 
with each roman letter 
because i happen to be
 an odd character. 
one not easily  read or recognized.

 i am old norse.

 i am latin children parading 
slowing across the page.
 
 i am the tragic king painted 
in rich iconic gold leaf. 

i cant be bound in a book
 i cant be put on a memo. 

i don't fit in your mailbox, keyboard, 
rubber stamped out font.

 i am unique.
 i am a character.

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Judy Wyld March 4, 2024 at 6:58 AM I would like to include this poem in an anthology I am creating. Please Nathan contact me to sort out copyright. Thanks Judy