So then he wandered out into the street and began to testify
Something about life being a long journey of the soul
An endless voyaging turning into a voyaging with an end
One knows how but one does not know when
No one yet knows when as the traffic bore down on him
As the traffic bore down on him my mind drifted in the wilderness
Or was it that my mind having been adrift all along
I’ve just grown to regard the wilderness as my resting or laughing place
He cried but those were not yet his last words
As the traffic parted around him as around one charmed
Cream of Tartar
ReplyDeleteIf I had a job
I'd have a house
with my house and job,
I'd then get married, have some kids
and get a dog. The dog's name
would be Cream of Tartar.
That's lovely, Susan. And we do hope he will be kept on leash.
ReplyDeleteI love this- both the picture and the poem. And Susan's poem. Looking at the photo, I wonder which is the insane one . . .
ReplyDeleteNin,
ReplyDeleteSame-same here -- at least about the photo and the Cream of Tartar poem and the wondering, that is.
It goes more like this:
ReplyDeleteCream of Tartar
(that most mysterious ingredient)
If I had a dog
I would call it home to my house
if I had a house and job and a man
to love me, I'd have some kids--
and the dog's name would be
Cream of Tartar.
(why I never make it as a slam poet--my poems are changed too much when I try to memorize them, plus, they are mostly very short, definitely under three minutes)
I think this version changes everything because it fails again and again the way poems are supposed to. I definitely keep this poem on a short leash. It not very well-behaved. This dog is mildly insane. This life is...