Carl Newlen

Lightning

- July 10, 2009, 3:25 pm | Sum Poems

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Face it. There are places
in your life that don`t invite
people like me - a muck-making
wanderer who would rather piss
in the woods than shave.

In my garden I keep the weeds
because they are orange,
sometimes purple, and in this storm
I might manage to get struck by lightning.

So you see, there is nothing
I can`t write about.

But that`s only half true -
I won`t write about plans we made,
remind you of a kiss,
or use cheap sentiment like
"my heart now in two."

You are non-fiction, and I keep falling
for impossible things.

I don`t have a tub with clawed feet
curved onto a white marble floor -
a wide window with a long view.

See the white flashes
in the upper branches
of that dead Juniper?

   And look there!

   Half a moon!

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