Events, Musings

Don’t Fear the Poem

fearDon’t fear the poem.
Baby take my hand.
We’ll be able to fly.
Don’t fear the poem.
La la la la la la la . . .

Apologies to Blue Oyster Cult. When I tell people I am a poet,

A. They run screaming far to uninhabited lands.

B. They want to share their own poems with me.

C. They make a hand gesture to ward off evil.

D. They stare blankly and then change the subject. Continue reading “Don’t Fear the Poem”