A Poet's Good-Bye: A Poem
I got my poetic ass on a squealing slow train
to take me all the way from here to there
and should I even tell you what was on my brain
you bet that none of you would really care.
To kill some of that travelling time
while imagining accomplices in that poetic crime
I randomly pulled out a sheet with a rhyme
and started reciting almost silent as a mime.
There were few, but not really many
who seemed to enjoy my verses and rhyme
and those few inspired me more than any
to keep reciting them for my very first time.
Recital made some more alert, and put others to sleep
a few applauded long before I was to be done
either telling me how I was not really fun
or I was interfering with their count of sheep.
Hundred poems later I got my station waiting for me
and maybe at my exit I would have even bowed
but they already got the next performer to see
a fat old dude snoring rhythmically and loud.
I whispered my last good-bye, and as I picked up my hat
a dime and a peanut generously fell out
so I ate the peanut and gave the dime to a crying brat
and that, my friends, is what my poetizing has been all about.