When I was a rabbit
the coyote was at my door
leaving me shivering
in the dark.
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My friend (and poet) , Willy Whippor Willow Jr, and I would write poems together we called 'Shared Questions'; a format where one would write - in just questions - and the other could only answer in questions. This was the first.
PLEASE NOTE: the default settings of this site do not allow it to be posted in its original format. This is meant to be read as a conversation; I have used line spacing to separate the two different voices. The first voice is Willy; the second is Ariel.
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This is a 'Shared Questions' I wrote with my friend (and poet) Willy Whippor Willow, Jr. Willy currently lives in Fairbanks, Alaska.
PLEASE NOTE: This site default formatting doesn't allow this poem to be posted in its original format. This is meant to be read as a conversation between two; for this site I have used line spacing to separate the two voices.
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The 'Willy' referred to in this poem is my friend & poet, Willy Whippor Willow, Jr.
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I heard someone complain about something
...
Am I innocent? Do I not share the guilt?
Perhaps the family is right;
Maybe I did give up too easily.
They cannot understand why I will not forget,
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The fog is in the fir trees,
Now dragging its slimy belly
On the bank.
Even the dirt keeps breathing
...
Martin, I'm afraid
You're mistaken
Mankind is tragically flawed.
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Salem thinks I exist in purple -
the multitude shades of it,
feminine soft lilac
bold, saucy plum
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Keeping job requires
new skills today - balancing
the State on her back.
...