Tired of Poetry Yet?

I have been so worn, trying to get my poetry on. So far, I have studied with Barbara Helfgott Hyett, Jericho Brown and in a few days I'll be sitting with Martin Espada. I do have a lot to say about these conferences. But, in summary, I am surprised I am not tired of reading or writing poetry. I have also realized that I have written so many more poems that I had expected. And that is so refreshing. Here's one I really love:



What Happens When You Sleep

Ganarth’s adventure into  the spirit world

is a dream you’re supposed to be in

but failed to manipulate a nightmare, so you’re dead:

No walking into chambers with old men chanting things

you could have sworn were tunes that sprung 

from your grandmothers throat each morning, 

no spiritual tour guide, not even a wingless heroine

with a body of a tiger or a tongue of a giraffe.

But, you will  be judged.

Your choice: a stinking feather to speed 

your flight to hell.