I've Never Thought to Write a Poem
I've never thought to write
a poem
Supine on a porch some-
thing sublime
It cuts as a jet through
fall, skyhigh
And the touching of chains
attached cry
Is a signal to all eve-
ning is mine
The absence of sound; cou-
pled with light
Is more than perceived; a
hot mean night
I've never thought to write
a poem
A deathly stick of white
unlike night
Black buning powder on
the front porch
To many, poetry
is something
that circles a subject,
Something deep
that masks aphorism
and completes
But to me, poetry
Is just words
Like a cigarette burn-
ing a porch
Or a boy on a chair-
swing in heat
Or the hum of a jet
in the sky
I've never thought to write a poem
There is just something a-
bout those words.