5 responses

  1. I like this haiku, especially the alliterative “pool’s…pollywogs.” I would like to write more nature–based poems but they all seem to end up as chiselers lately. Maybe when the weather gets warmer something spontaneous will unfold. In the meantime I got this—spontaneously– last night. It may be death doggerel but I found it rather humorous and reassuring. Any impressions? Thanks.

    Poem written by a communist in a hospice waiting room

    I am alive
    And you near death
    But I am humble
    That will change
    And I will follow
    In my turn
    And take my place
    Beside your grave.
    Will I see Love
    At my last breath
    Or will I curse
    The common fate?
    Why, I might also
    Celebrate this last
    And literal–most–
    Dead-end, my final
    Time as applicant
    And feel relief
    To finally see
    Bill Gates and I
    Are equal now.


  2. Well, I read it to one of them and he was only put off by the title, specifically that a “communist” was saying it. But the only alternate title I could come with is “A communist visits Bill Gates in hospice,” which preserves it as a light-hearted commentary on ideology. I also read him the one previous to this you may remember called “Nothingness” which he said sounded more like a suicide note than a poem when in fact I’ve never had a suicidal thought in my life. But granted, neither ranks with Larkin’s Aubade on the subject. Speaking of which…who would know of Larkin except for Aubade and who would know of Bishop except for One Art. So back to the slot machine.


  3. Good news! This doggerelish rubbish may have conceived the greatest and longest poem I will have ever written. Philosophical but fun—and very “people.” And even if not, everything is good. I’ll convert to a novel.


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