on my nightstand
they wait like commuters
dreaming of the MAX:
rumi, twain, jung, campbell
inner, outer, inner and a witness
my radio will not play KBOO
my books will not board the train
one or two cats will visit
and drink from my water glass
and leave their spit like a gratuity
on my nightstand
the world shares its crumbs
and i eat them greedily
aware that the cats may arrive
at any moment
perhaps this one
***
Seattle Dan was writing a blog post about baseball books and Opening Day, and at the end of his piece he asked a question: So what's on your nightstand? The poem seen above is my response. Now buy me something.
***
they wait like commuters
dreaming of the MAX:
rumi, twain, jung, campbell
inner, outer, inner and a witness
my radio will not play KBOO
my books will not board the train
one or two cats will visit
and drink from my water glass
and leave their spit like a gratuity
on my nightstand
the world shares its crumbs
and i eat them greedily
aware that the cats may arrive
at any moment
perhaps this one
***
Seattle Dan was writing a blog post about baseball books and Opening Day, and at the end of his piece he asked a question: So what's on your nightstand? The poem seen above is my response. Now buy me something.
***
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