Monday, March 27, 2017

the reviews

slowly he goes through
the mail.
the reviews of his latest
of poetry are in.
thin, one says.
the same, another states.
boring, almost
as if he mailed
it in
a woman in Toledo writes.
the poet nods, he sips.
his coffee.
rubs the sleep
out of his eyes.
he's happy
with all of this.
it stirs him to rise
and put his fingers onto
the keyboard once

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