The Whole Book of Poems
You might have
been born any time
nesting on a red stage
an egg balanced
on a trembling chair
you might have
played the cornet
but no no no
you’re here instead
with a great prize
selfish a little mad
the whole book of poems
that is that was
I won’t repeat it
history what a chop suey
there’s really no point.
© 2015 Rob Schackne
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