Thursday, October 9, 2014

Headline Poem 10/9/14 -- I will write you because you ask

I will write you because you ask 

Your story keeps coming, taping
  me on the shoulder
  me in my dreams. 

You knock on the front door, 
and my dogs bark as I try 
to ignore -- 
I peek out the window 
because I'm not prepared 
 for the company. 
I'm not ready, but you are. 

And so like a humble farmer, I dig. 
And like a naked maid, I scurry 
to dress 
before my mistress rises. 
I know once dawn comes,
she will keep me occupied until 
another morning
with cold coffee-filled mugs 
and half eaten chips, 
grapes and scraps of paper 

I wrote before, and although I shared,
I didn't listen as much as I spoke. 
I edited the ugly. 
I feared the confrontational. 
I sheltered.  
I prevented 
that deserve to be made,
but in all fairness,
they were not yet made. 

This time I will 
I will listen. 
I will plot. 

You  have     much to learn, 
and I will oblige, 
but writing about you 
will be the most selfish 
thing I do.