I spit out my words
defensively, apologetically
arms clutching my waist
reading my poetry aloud
makes the words too real
grants them extra power and substance
as if reading publicly
makes the words too real
grants them extra power and substance
first I need prompting
from their black-and-white shapes
but soon memory takes over
little bits and pieces
of my soul launched into the air
like miniature paper airplanes
please let them sail
smoothly into ears and hearts
not careen off stony faces, acid tongues
for my ego is weak
how will I take news that my precious
planes are lost in sea or jungle river
all this
because I was forced to read
impromptu
maybe my words flew
out the window and boarded
a freight train – oh, those eternal trains
even now my words
are bound for exotic places like
Kansas City, Fargo, Salinas
where they must
need poetry, right? packed next to
wire coils and stacks of tires
a boxcar full of air
swirling words birthing tornados
dissolving and re-forming in seconds
a man with thick gloves
and overalls will open the doors
duck quickly to the ground
flying to freedom
my words almost shave his head
next stop Kalamazoo, Trenton, Foxboro