I've started writing poems that I'm not posting. Don't worry, it's only been a couple and it's because they're not of a caliber, you know what I mean? Plus, with my reading series getting started and my book on the horizon, I'm realizing I don't need to put up every little snot out of my nose. But that last poem was dedicated to Gina Myers, so you know. And this one is not. I'm starting a Jackson Mac Low-ish project called "Steve Roberts' Animal Kingdom." Here's one of those poems.
Here's my poem:
EAGLE (FALCONIDAE ACCIPTRES)
I'm writing about sunlight dripping off of a brick wall.
It hurts me to write about it, and my house
is surrounded by sunlight. It hurts me
to drink, I check my watch and open
my encyclopedia. I wrote a letter
laying in the grass while the sunlight
slapped the surface of my computer.
My white cotton shirt is now red.
I was drinking while writing a letter.
I was grinning on the telephone while talking
to the president and eating.
I'm writing about worms.