The List, The Poem, The List

manuelaI am not a poet.
I don’t understand poetry.
I can’t write a poem.
I am not poetic.

The mantra of negatives,
Half spoken truthfully,
Half intended to hide
The fact that

You are a poet.
You do understand poetry.
You can write a poem.
You are poetic.

Stopping on your commute
To work, you pick up a tortoise
And bring it back for me to observe
And let loose in the garden.
You write a “list” about my golf cart
And my family
And my cats and dogs
And me.
You feed me your dreams,
Which as dreams often are,
Reek of poetic images
And intentions, synesthesia
Of sight and movement,
Models from Price is Right
And crocodiles submerged in mud.

 In some ways,
We are all what we are not.
In some ways,
We are all not what we are.

–Shaun Perkins

2 thoughts on “The List, The Poem, The List

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s