Saturday, October 08, 2016

Election Year 2016 Poem

IM

I'll call this a fondness poem
for those who indulge me
in deep-seated chat.
If I used the word love,
you'd flee, and I
would stand empty.
Then where would you leave me -
on the corner of Main
and Abandonment?
I'm not sure I could endure
that kind of loneliness.

Every poet needs a reader.
No one wants to be stranded
in their head. It's midnight in there.
The alleys are pitch and sharp,
slimy-grounded, trash-smelly.
No, that's no place for a poet,

or anyone really. If we
could just treat each other better,
hug the anger out of each other,
hold the heart of one another
in caring, careful hands,
I think we'd be okay. But

fear trumps philosophy,
and the center cannot hold.
I'm out of time.
Out of time.

Katherine Gotthardt
copyright 2016


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