Ten Poems You Could Be Writing

1.
The one where you are speaking to one person you’ve never met in a dark room.

2.
The one recited from behind a white screen.  You’re backlit in Yankee Stadium on a small stage.  There’s no microphone, no public address system; the stadium is empty.

3.
The one like the previous one except you have the greatest sound system in world history.  The stadium is still empty.

4.
The one where you ask the audience to harm you.  

5.
The one where you speak through a gag — a sleeve cut off a fresh corpse.

6.
The one in which you speak English but are trying to imitate the sound of another tongue, the one your grandmother spoke.  Not a translation; English words that sound like the words she used.  (Can you hear her?)

7.
The one in which you are completely fictional — you were never born, all the memory you’ve got is false, and your audience will be surprised to discover you’re not a beloved character from their favorite childhood book.

8.
The one in which the pen suddenly leaps out of your hand and stakes a territorial claim like a bear.

9.
The one in which the detective has not eaten for hours under the single white bulb, there is sweat, you are about to confess and it dawns upon you that lying or telling the truth doesn’t matter as long as you can’t smell your body emptying itself into this ill-fit suit, this outfit made for a coffin outing.  You can’t tell where you are, but it’s a city you should have been born in.  Your grandmother’s coming to throw your bail.  (Can you hear her? She’s looking for you.  Calling you.  Asking for you by a name you never heard before, but it’s yours.)

10.
The one where you are finally in a full stadium. There are lions.