a poem


I don’t usually do this:

-Read Poetry

-Like Poetry

-Blog of the poem I read, and liked ; but I guess there is a first sometime for everything.

From the Greensboro Review:

DENIAL by Jon Obermeyer

It’s not

the kiss of coffee

of the glancing touch of the feathered down,

or first sunlight shared

like sections of the newspaper.

Yes, I’m through with that.

It’s not

about the sweet kingdom of canteloupe,

or the curvature

along your foot or shoulder bone.

Our planet is flat,

And we shall never go to the moon.

It is

exactly what it is not.

The skillet sings a backward tune,

the toast unburns

and the yolk becomes its singular self

once again.

Please, pass the salt

for the wound.

Serve me up

all the reasons why we should,

and I will make an entire meal out of veto and

Let’s Not.

Leave a Reply