Chicano Poet

Friday, July 30, 2004

To See The World In A Single Girl Of Sand

for gnome-girl

Every poem is to die for
said the skinny, young poetess
as she leaned against the wall

before the poetry reading
got started.
The first poet to read

was an old poet.
All his lines
were sculptured in the desert.

The blowing sand
swarmed like local locust
in the dunes.

The audience put on goggles
to keep the sand out of their eyes
to no avail.

It crept into their bones
like scorpions
when they sting.

Then, after the reading
the poetess introduced herself.
Her eyes sparkled like nearby stars.

He held her hand in his,
explained the desert poems
as struggles with paradise.

Later he took her back
to his hotel room.
Her poetry was one single grain of sand.

2 Comments:

At 7:33 PM, Blogger Billy Jones said...

Ah, I see Chey has captured your imagination just as she has mine and so many others, and the comparison to a grain of sand-- excellent.

 
At 5:42 PM, Blogger desert flower said...

Beautiful, just like Chey.

 

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