Poetry is a code
That’s moving through you
just below the surface

Poetry is not a sedative
For your next five minutes
It’s not an opiate
In which our survival collides
These words are not meant for now – but later
Much later
When the push of your life, my life, this life
Becomes unbearable.
When all the politicians become unbearable
When everyone you’ve ever loved hates you
When every member of your family has left you,
Died on you in the night
Put you in a nursing home
Left you to rot in prison, in jail or a hospital
Decided to ignore you because you work in a cubicle
Or detest you because you told them you were gay,
Madly in love with a Jewish American Princess or a
Young Republican

I’ve been hated my whole life
For one reason or another
They’ve always had their reasons
But here I am
Spending time with you
Sitting at the foot of my poetry in silence
Going over the code






From: Observations of a Dead Man (2007)