RIC S. BASTASA

won't you believe it
i am in the middle of my work
and in between
i type some words,
which i may call
a poem, like this one

those that see me
do not realize this

poetry is in between
our dull moments
poetry is an insertion
of our routine
poetry is not bread
it is the cheese
the ham
the mayonnaise
the pickle or the
lettuce in between
the slices of
sandwich

poetry is what goes
in the middle of meaningless
endeavors

poetry is unprofessionalism
defrauding the employer
with his paid hours

this it. The fool has not
notice.

this fool.