Story about a poem




This poem I found malingering,
downtown by the Foreign Auto Body
& it refused at first to admit
to me it was unemployed.
I said--
I致e been there, man,
it ain稚 no thing.
It looked sideways, embarrassed,
said, I haven稚 coughed up
so much as a half-metaphor
in weeks. I知 dry, man,
you know how it goes.
Yeah, I said, but I tried
to keep it distracted
because by then we were only half a block
from the Social Security Administration building.
Without proof of citizenship you're sunk
and the last thing you need is more bad news,
I said--No one likes a poem with bad news.
Go on, get a card, you値l be halfway there,
we値l get you out of this unemployment rut.
Go ahead, I said.
I値l wait here.


I drank my Dunkin Donuts coffee
& waited.
Soon, sure enough,
certified & still embarrassed
out it came. Sheepish,
clutching the little card.
I said, see? You値l be a stanza
in no time, you値l be a specialty limerick
before you know it. I know this guy,
he痴 looking for a good poem,
he値l put you to work. You値l be in couplets
up to your ears.
No one likes an idle poem.
I feel bad, you know, it said,
am I a charity case or what?
No, I said, it was on my way,
really, no trouble.
Really, I said. We parted ways
& I came home and wrote this.




10/24/2004