poet prison

Sent me to poet prison

so that I can atone .

Oh don’t stick me with the poets

or the mirror makers or the

prison-trained upholsterers .

I could do with solitary confinement

I think

for an indeterminate time

sentence me but not with the experts or the slippery tongued

strivers .

Put me with the elders or the been -theres and the worn- outs .

I might find the unforced crowd for companionship anyway,

the un-strugglers and the contented and the

just theres .

I know it all washes over like human tide .

I’ll wait in the tide pool prison

with the cooks and the cleaners if I can

and let the promoters pass me by

in the strain .

Send the poets and the whizzes and the tinkers away ,

if you will , and especially the energetic thinkers .

Give me a cell with cardboard bars

so I can fret an unrhymed and unlettered escape .

” You have a poet in you , but a damned morbid one .” —-

Long Day’s Journey Into Night .

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