The poem I need to write

is standing just over there, mocking me.

there is a bird on its head and it is wearing a cape.

it keeps smiling and shimmering until it can’t be seen. then it’s there again.

I will catch it tomorrow

or perhaps tonight after I close my eyes, so as not to be distracted by its silver and blue.

nights,
T

PS: the left hand box, the one you keep for the bad artifacts. what would I find if I looked in there?

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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