I have lists of things I needed to do today. None of which I have paid enough attention to, it seems. Oh well. There’s tomorrow. Today it was just rain, and reading, and soup.
Some People Like Poetry
that is not everybody
Not even the majority but the minority.
Not counting the schools where one must,
and the poets themselves,
there will be perhaps two in a thousand.
but we also like chicken noodle soup,
we like compliments and the color blue,
we like our old scarves,
we like to have our own way,
we like to pet dogs.
but what is poetry.
More than one flimsy answer
has been given to that question.
And I don’t know, and don’t know, and I
cling to it as to a life line.