WORDS OF A POET

Fluent and sometimes,hard
To elucidate.

I knew this poet,
He would spend hours,odd and even.
Composing for self satisfaction,
Words would jumble up,
He would mumble to himself,
He kept going as he erased and cancelled words.

I met him a few years later,days ago somewhere.
He was not excited nor dismayed to see my face.
He just stared into my brain and said," You look like a woman."

For a moment I was suspended in suspense,
Before I could ask he answered,
"Like a woman I met years ago,though she was a girl then."
Confusion rang like alert bells.

He went on to ask,
As he walked past me nude.

" Do you know me enough?"
Held a flask and poured me some coffee.
I took a sip and fell asleep.
I woke up inside a dictionary.

All the words were written,
Poet,poet,
My eyes would play tricks and make up,
Poeta,poeta,
My brain would return me to others I missed,
Poems,poems.

I was in oblivion,
Poems,poetry,poeta.

Guided by his echoing words.
I ran across the pages,
Tumbled over;metaphors,allusions,symbols,satires,
I fell into parallel verses,
I swam weak through punctuations I had never seen before.

I woke up again...there he was all dressed up,
Tuxedo and bow tie.
He told me to be keen when he spoke,
He asked me to learn how to separate poetry from prose,
Poetry from the author.

His words still haunt my being,
As I sit on this rocking chair,
Carrying his child in my womb.

M.O.O.aka Carswell evoL