The problem with poems
if you’re the kind of person who’s always anxious
until he pulls into the driveway
turns off the light locks the door
replaces the toothbrush in the toothbrush
holder, feeds the dog, kisses the wife
switches out the burned out bulb
greets the morning with a smile
opens the file
pulls the lever
lets out a singular sigh
The problem in short if you’re a person whose heart
cannot rest
until you are safely there
the problem with poems is not that you never arrive.
The problem is
you never arrive.
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