A Disagreement with the Old Poet
“Everything is fodder”
The old poet dragged deeply on his Malboro.
His face was still red from last night’s bender.
“We’re not like other people.
We watch too much.
We feel too much. We can either drink
or write.”
I sip my cup of coffee. It steams.
Black and hearty.
“I disagree.” I said.
“I think we are exactly like other people.
only, we leak.”
About this poem.Β
From time to time I am reminded of my first poetry teacher, a crusty, hard-drinking, co-ed ooogling old man from North Carolina named Robert Hazel. Not a role model, but a wonderful poet. his lessons about poetry still rattle around in my head. Something reminds me of him and there’s no getting rid of it until I write it down.
Heβs nagging at you to write another poem π
He always was a nag that way! One of his endearing qualities.
I absolutely love and relate to this poem Tom. Thanks for sharing! I am a Life Coach with a passion for poetry and have a poetry blog here on WordPress in case you have time to read? http://www.peacockpoetryblog.wordpress.com You can also follow me on Instagram #coachingcreatively in case you use this platform? Have a good Monday! Sam π
I wil be visiting your site today. Be well.
Thanks so much and you too Tom! π