If at first, you draft
A poem,
To start, you say:
A yellow couch
Listens to John Cage.
Next, leave it
With the paint cans
In the cellar.
In a year, or two,
Go looking for it.
Without reading it,
Turn it over,
Start something new,
Like:
You found me
In the birdbath,
The rainwater
Is shirtless.
That will never do.
It’s best to be desperate:
The universe
Was swallowed
By a few words.
Long shadows
Go to great lengths
In doorways.
For the better part of a decade
Put it with the dry
Beans in the back of
The cupboard:
The night arrives first
A pink ribbon
Of steel,
A headache of honey and blood.
Just abruptly end and hope no one
Notices:
Writing a poem
Is like finishing a knot,
Or cutting a hole in a net
Before collecting butterflies.
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naïve haircuts 
Ok, so this is my new favourite naive haircut!
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Awesome. Thank you Nick!
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Fantastic!
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you’re back to your best, Bob: enigmatic, elliptical and entertaining 🙂
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Thanks John. I’m glad you think so. Spring has been good for me.
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I love this. It makes me smile and nod but also the images are powerful and real and true as shadows. Just magnificent.
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Thank you! I’m very happy you think so.
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Really liked the final couplet. Could really relate to that.
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Thank you! I’m glad you liked it.
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I love this so much I can’t even tell you. Every line, every line. Long shadows go to great lengths…pink ribbon of steel…all of it, I savour ❤
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Thank you Sunra. I’m really happy you like it. Thanks!!!!
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Nice poem. Keep it up.
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Thank you!
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