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Two poems


The most important thing for poets to do is to write as little as possible.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965)

Disillusioned

Some days try as I might I find nothing to write

no poems or anecdotes, advice, wisdom or witticisms

all dried up for now, probably for the best

Defiant

It’s not poetry because he says it’s poetry

don’t be so fucking stupid

all he’s done

is put line breaks in

some prose

Imagism

Inspired by James Laughlin’s Pentastichs

and Felix Feneon’s Novels in Three Lines

he decided everything

can be boiled down

to 30 words or less

Disinterested

“How nice” they say

flipping through my book of poems

before picking up

their iPhones again.

“That’s great” they add.

Prolific

Ten years of college notes, 20 years of journal entries,

novels, short stories, essays, letters, thousands of poems

and now I don’t know what to do with it all

We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love.

Sigmund Freud (1856-1939)

Thespians

Trying out for the romantic lead

opposite my girl losing

to handsome hunky Everett

then watching him romancing her on-stage

from backstage for weeks

Love-sick

One night he walked

four miles to her house

hid in the bushes hoping for a glimpse

of her up in her bedroom window

Neurotic

Returning to school 2 weeks too early

after my spinal fusion surgery so the other guys knew

she wasn’t fair game because I was still around

College

She returned my ring so she could date other guys

in college. I should’ve let her off the hook

but couldn’t stand the thought of living without her.

Lonely

After dropping her at her school

I’d return to mine

walk alone along cold dark streets

unsure if I’d ever see her again

The Devil

Would’ve sold my soul to the Devil

for her, although today she says

I never had anything

to worry about

she’s always been my girl

 

Michael Estabrook small press poet since the 1980s striving always for greater clarity and concision rendering language more succinct and precise more accessible and appealing a Sisyphean adventure for sure. Retired now writing more and working more outside just noticed two Cooper’s hawks staked out in the yard or rather above it which explains the nerve-wracked chipmunks. The Poet’s Curse, A Miscellany is a recent collection (The Poetry Box, 2019).


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