Matthew Foor

Rookie (9-12-85 / Austin Texas)

Mocking Bird - Poem by Matthew Foor

What's it take to lead a hand to write?
To lead a hand to a life worth living?
I sit and stare out this window
As the clock taps on my shoulder
Books of poetry strewn out before me
Norbert Krapf, Bradley Hathaway, and Mark Eleveld
They keep me company
Each book doning two bookmarks
One for my eyes
The other for John
Bookmarks made from a couple sheets
From my mini composition note pad
The heat kicks on in the back room
But the backroom doesnt need it
It never does
It's always warm
That, or cold
Always the extreme of one or the other
John sits next to me hurriedly composing
Scribbling in his notepad
Scribing in his own language
Handwriting that he alone can read
Everyone else can get f%#@ed
he noticed that I was a poet
A few weeks back
THe metaphorical flame was lit under his ass
Slowly he began writing more
He would come to me with newly scribed scribbles
He would ask what I thought
I would tell him
Words of encouragement fell forth from my jaw
I wanted to inspire him more
Next thinkg I know
He's sitting right next to me
Nearly every night
Writing his poems
Reading softly alound
to ensure quality of sound

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Poem Submitted: Friday, February 1, 2013

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