I used to lie awake waiting (sweat in my eyes)
for the images to come.
I would sit in coffee shops (even though I cannot stand its bitterness);
At breakfast tables each day,
thinking between the crossword clues.
I used to search for wisdom, inspiration:
Sandburg, Hughes, Bishop, Pound, Williams, and Whitman!
(Oh, what leaves of grass I walk upon looking under each step!)
Bending the pages of these poems,
I try to absorb their passions, words
by showing what I have read.
I write about love
But, I have been defacing American poetry,
Spitting in the eyes of greatness and
I have crushed leaves of grass instead
of placing my ear on their tips
and listening to their songs.
It is time to read, write, read, write!
Sitting in my chair,
writing instead of
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