Lately I feel as though I have been reunited with poetry.   It’s been a delight to delve into it again, to swim around in words just for fun.   I know that around the corner from my desire to read lots of poetry again, there is the next logical step, which is writing poetry again.  I can’t wait.

To celebrate my rediscovered joy, I bring you today’s poem, one of my favorites. After you read it, I’d love to hear about something that has made you ‘romp with joy’ recently!


Eating Poetry

MARK STRAND

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
she screams.

I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.