disinterested but
a personal cloud or laundry

a story

When I was younger I read about an older poet who when he was much younger even than I was at the time wrote poems of such wonder that older poets of his time took him under their wings as if they were raptors maybe who’d spotted some unusual motion far down on a page of the younger poet’s own magazine and called him up to New York where anything can happen and some things go well. 


The comments to this entry are closed.