one's asleep
at the bar
two are dreaming
of electric sheep
three are pinging
off their heads
for a long time
four don't sleep
five lose words
six are in the bedroom
hell now it's turning into an orgy
bring a few out
throw them the microphone
and some house wine
let them stumble over
countless empty bottles
listen to them
sing a love song or two
where were we up to?
seven poets
lawless and dirty
eight poets
can they carry
a poem
down a road of glass
or a sea of tears?
nine poets
what were
you thinking?
now they've spilt the milk
kissed and told
stolen grog
fallen over lines
where are we going with this?
I've lost count
Dear Kristen, I am touched. Thank you. Where we're going with this is where we were always going, in the direction of the best heart, out of the woods, to some better well-lighted place that's never closed, that welcomes the outlaw soul :)
ReplyDeleteAnd what a poetic vision that is dear Rob! Good hearted; well lit, open 24/7 & welcoming of the lawless soul. Ah such bliss for a motley crew of poets :))
Deleteand if one little poet should accidentally fall...
ReplyDeleteThat's a whole new poem Kit ...:)
DeleteThe well-lit alley of poetry haha. Too true. Kit we deliberately fall.
ReplyDeleteand into the monopoly game of souls falls the one true pen....or another glass of red!
ReplyDelete