Mark B and the Last Thing

A work in progress (from my “Stolen Poems” series)…

Your “worst” poem poked me

It felt like an umbrella tip of challenges

Because, like you, I was challenged

And, like you, it felt like

Your “bag of thank-you notes” felt

Like “enough art for one day”

 

You had your “boneless” kiss

And your time in the “floral trenches”

I wondered about that

What have I had lately?

I should know, I don’t

Things – images, conversations –

Slip away…

Thundering round the corner

The trick my own disappearance

 

And maybe that is why I am stealing

Your “cockshy quasihero” with his

“Latex lasso” and “flock of sparrows”

Because I’m hoping they will replace

Those little precious – if they were precious –

Memories I invented and then put aside

Or lost or disregarded or forgot

And if I can make from them

A wrenched together thing

That is worth the “filthy price” you speak of