Poem #99

Oh, tell us!

Won’t you tell us?


The master-poet smiled.

The smile meant no.


He adjourned to the coast to die.

From a clifftop verandah he peered down

At the swash, hoping for a glimpse of Venus,

Birthing on the waves.

He didn’t see her,

And so he lay down to die.


Crowds bubbled to hear The Simile:

Students, professors, aficionados,

Past lovers, fellow poets,

Those who knew the master-poet

As a sardonic cad.




I’m like the tooth fairy,

In that I’m secretly your Dad.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s