Reading Writing Rich
Always after reading
poetry
I fly like ducks for life
poetry is my season for love
a fat girl goes by and
I wonder what it is like
to walk so full
as she must wonder what it is like
to run so empty
(what do our bodies mean?)
I cant tell her: read poetry
you will see a boy with spiky hair
and a gallant stride
and it won’t matter
about full or empty
or if you are tired
or that words in migration
are only emulation:
you will love
simply
that he exists
and that the secret moment
you kissed
has flown like ducks into Poetry
