Poetic Interlude XI

POEM PILE

I pile them up – and up they go

Poems galore like some gathering of confetti

After the wedding of holding hands

Leaves of paper ajar against the wall

For all to see and consider oblong or square?

Set on sideboard – what a place to be

Poems are meant to be

In professional-folder of professional-man

But instead lie-dishevelled in full view

So that they are disregarded as

Shoe-string or serviette, or chair-feet cups or…

Yet an odd visitor may ask

If they can look? – if they can read?

But silent after reading – their response to me

Let’s me know that again

I must suffer for my art

😎

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