Thursday, January 13, 2011

Another Poem Which I Have Written

Stanching the Flow

Today, I performed an experiment.
I sent a bucket down
and then pulled it back up.

It was as I feared:
the bucket was dry.

I had been feeling it for weeks, you know:
brushing my teeth, I would bite down on grit
or washing my hands, I’d have to wipe off a layer of slime.
The soup tasted decayed
and when I boiled noodles
they would turn an unpleasant grey color.

I had no idea, though, that the well was dry.
Naturally, I have to figure something out now;
how will I brush my teeth,
wash my hands
make soup
boil noodles?
I assumed the flow would never stop.
I had taken it for granted I would always be able to
up something, even if I scraped the bottom.

What do I do now?
What dynamite can blast loose
the clog within my well?

This could cause some serious problems for my publisher.

Long live poesy!