POEM ABOUT IT
Write a poem about it, someone said,
so I wrote 'Poem about it'. That's
not what I meant, she carped. Well
get out your harp and then strum
about what it is, precisely, that
your words are meant to convey.
Ave Maria, I added then. That's not
a poem she said. 'Well actuially it is
I ventured to suggest, at least for
those who have the ears that wish
to know and understand, without
the song and dance of it'. She gave
a scowl and said, Get Lost, I asked
a passerby, 'Can you please tell me
where it is I live. I think i'm in disgrace.