Friday Night Poetry


Copy This Poem

Take this poem

and copy it

and send it to everyone you know,

For I want it to live.

I want it to continue to exist long after the world has changed.

I want it to be studied in English 101 classes,

Collected in family treasuries,

And read on cold, rainy days

in Bed and Breakfasts.

The great performance of the Tenor

begins to decay from memory

the moment that the last note is sung.

The colors of great painting fade

and the paint begins to crack after a decade.

Even the marble sculpture becomes caked with pollution

and crumbles over the centuries,

But this poem can live indefinitely

in pristine form

if stolen, recreated,

and read often.

Note: This poem may be copied, read, transmitted, performed, sung, and distributed as desired. If sold, no copyright may be assigned.

Sheffler’s Inn


I sit in the isolated room,

Silent except for the air conditioner

Blasting from the closet,

Fighting a futile battle.

My bicycle leans against the wall,

my gloves drapped over the handlebars

soaked in salt and suntan lotion.

As the long, hot day finally ends

I push open the sticky door.

I hear voices and see bright lights

Which I follow.

I cross the highway and some tracks,

Entering a small park where

A softball game is ending.

I stay to watch,

But feel the stares of the crowd.

“You don’t belong here.”

I leave by the highway

The next morning before sunrise

and am not missed.

Comments appreciated! What are your thoughts? Questions?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.