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.