I first wrote Leaking as a short story. I offer it here for your comments.
Leaking
Strange but I think I’m leaking. It’s hard
to know (of course), but perhaps
it’s the dawn of Alzheimer,
wisenheimer, John Jacob Jingleheimer
Schmidt, has life always sucked?
Live a day, die a day, live again.
White on white, black on black.
I want my baby back ribs
to dream the one and live the other
or dream the other and live the one
leaking. But there is no proof. No.
Proof is one hundred percent
proof is the letter Y beginning with a W sound
and the letter U with a Y sound.
Did it used to be the other way around
round get around I get around
is the real quirk that You begins with Y
and not W? Wou would trouble some
with the paradox of W’s and Y’s
men say only fools rush in
roulette.
Husband. Father. Grandfather. Pilot. Pastor. Poet.
2 responses so far ↓
real live preacher // Aug 20, 2007 at 3:17 pm
Can’t claim that I understood this one completely, which is fine with poetry, of course. I did very much enjoy the way you “leaked” common phrases into this:
John Jacob Jingleheimer
baby back ribs.
Papa Poet // Aug 21, 2007 at 3:04 pm
RLP. I have received your comment before on this poem. I won’t explain every nuance, but the gist of what I’m trying to do (and evidently failing) is depict one who’s grasp on reality is slipping, and getting slippery as the poem proceeds. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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