The Poem Hunter

Rating: 5.0

I sat all day in the blinds in the marsh,
trying to trap a poem.
I set my traps in the deep woods.
I dug a hole in the ice,
but the poems weren't biting.

The poems were too smart for me,
they were onto my ways.
They'd gotten my scent
and stayed away.

I was getting hungry,
starving for poems.
I was wasting away.

FEMA never brought me any poems.
The government never air-dropped
any Poems-Ready-To-Go.

At last, a small poem came by,
but it wasn't much,
it didn't have much meat.

I'm starting to think
these regions are all poemed out.
I need to head for a wilder place.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler 27 December 2005

i had been watching the Discovery channel all weekend, and this particular piece made me laugh out loud. the cynicism and humour was especially strong in the last bit. Jake

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Ernestine Northover 26 December 2005

Really enjoyed this one Max, a nice, different angle to poem writing. An enjoyable read, thanks for posting it. Love Ernestine XXX

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Poetry Hound 25 December 2005

Very clever, Max. In Part 2, you can describe what it was like to chance upon two poems procreating (One of the poems had a very long metaphore) .

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Simone Inez Harriman 24 December 2005

Yes sometimes it feels like this Max. All the traps are out but not a bite. Clever poem. Thank you much enjoyed.

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