Thursday, April 17, 2008

NaPoWriMo, Day Seventeen, Poem Seventeen

Trying the tretina again.

Thanks for your comments. More please. I'm insecure and needy like that.


On Obsession

On my bed is a week's worth of clothes and work.
None of it substitutes your absent body.
I think about writing a third poem,

about you, except I already wrote that poem
and forgot about it, felt it didn't work
when truthfully, none of them may, their bodies

of words insufficient to lure anybody,
let alone y0u, who told me you were the poem
e.e. cummings didn't write. I said I'd put in more work.

Time slowly tells my body of work: silence is the best poem.


No comments: