So? Poem by RIC BASTASA

...oh, the rat says
she has her own world to share
with all the twists
and short stories to tell
but nothing
about poetry
lest she be nothing but
a second rate trying hard
copycat

she is honest
and means every word
and means that what she says
is her own world shared

the messy room? the missed momma
the hardwork in the office
all these stuff

on the other hand
i still assert
that we too write for other people
empathize with them
and they too become sources
of our own literature
a shared world
a study
a way of putting our own feet
in their own shoes

and i tell her too
i am missing
i lose myself in the world of other people
and find myself
under the moon
hanging its face on the twigs of a
tree
that i too feel the shadows
of the wind
hear the voices of the desert
attentive
to the protests of the waves
of the sea
the rage of the storm
the implacable
chatters of those who
never want to die
as early
as the bud that the
child nipped.