National Poetry Month

It’s National Poetry Month. Who knew? Apparently a few LJ folks, because I’ve been seeing poems pop up here and there like the little blue flowers that have escaped from the bed and into my lawn. And certainly the Academy American of Poets does, as they have a nice National Poetry Month website. Earlier today I “warned” a friend that it was National Poetry Month and there would soon be poems in my LJ, and he replied, and I quote here, “Noooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!” Too bad for him I’ve come up with ideas for at least three poetry-related posts already.

This is the first. It’s from the back cover of the Charles Bukowski collection Run with the Hunted: A Charles Bukowski Reader, in addition to probably several other publications of his or reprinting his work.

the mockingbird

the mockingbird had been following the cat
all summer
mocking mocking mocking
teasing and cocksure;
the cat crawled under rockers on porches
tail flashing
and said something angry to the mockingbird
which I didn’t understand.

yesterday the cat walked calmly up the driveway
with the mockingbird alive in its mouth,
wings fanned, beautiful wings fanned and flopping,
feathers parted like a woman’s legs,
and the bird was no longer mocking,
it was asking, it was praying
but the cat
striding down through centuries
would not listen.

I saw it crawl under a yellow car
with the bird
to bargain it to another place.

summer was over.


About songdogmi

I'm a longhaired almost-hippie stuck in the inner suburbs of a major rust-belt metropolis who's thoughtful, creative, and kind of geeky. In exchange for a paycheck I run around in a cubicle maze most days. When I escape, I play music, hang out in coffee houses, dink around on the computer, take naps, and think I should be off in the woods somewhere. Every once in a while I get in my car and drive far, far away, though I've always come back so far.
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