Ode to other writers


Ode to other writers

You made me appreciate
The use of a turn in a poem
And I sought to write a poem
About you, without success

I could not encompass
Your own myth in my myth

Or embrace you as a person
Whom I could not know

For I always wanted to encourage
People like you, but I knew
You existed, on the fringes
Of publishing and quite cafes

Where poets go to hear each other
Talk about poetry, no
The female protagonists of the new poetry
Where I cannot go or care not to

Since I do not live in San Francisco
New York or Seattle, no
You see, we are such a select bunch of
Writers, that can only say we

Do what we love, sometimes in the closet
Sometimes like you, with an
MFA that you can say gives you
The right to talk about other writers

With a bit more dignity
Whereas I only read them to write
I knew for sure I’d never sit down
To attempt a novel, I’d rather to imagine

I knew you, than actually
Have the chance of knowing you
And somehow get lost on the way.

5 thoughts on “Ode to other writers

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