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A True Man-Poet

by Eric Hinkle

the dark hairnet of the sky
with stars flickering like lice
like night lights bickering at
shadows in gilded corners
of bed quarters of ancient coroners
aching with cornered defeat,
fevers finally breaking after centuries
of impassioned navel tickling
and rainings-on of tickertape parades
full of amateur rocket men
with their Cary Grant charades,
in which they demonstrate the
wits' end exasperation of a
narrator interjecting to say, “ W A I T!
now just what is all this mumbled
mumbo jumbo you're spewing at us,
Mr. Poet?”

at which point Mr. Poet, a
true man-poet, looks sheepishly
at the crowd and shrugs
rather uncertainly.


Author's Note: writing exorcise

Posted on 10/19/2011
Copyright © 2021 Eric Hinkle

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