Treasure Island

Patrick Dennis


Modern Poets


You talk in riddles
like oracles of many strange gods;
and we, those strange few who read you,
bow down.
We, knowing the wage rate and the buying power,
know all else is the core of mystery;
And random words in neat chunks on white paper
the core of a mystery most palpable.

Submitted: Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, February 11, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Another bad mood day. I was probably trying to make sense of some of my own stuff.

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