}} Knock-Knock |

Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Knock-Knock

It’s quiet—
like a fly
in a frog’s mouth.

Say something
loud
but secret
like starlight
banging on a bug’s back,

something
so true
that
just the suggestion

un-hands the clocks—

why pretend
that I’m not
what I am:

a hard-on
held by the head nun,
that rogue fart in the flower shop,
freak branch
on the family tree,
that mad song
in a mum city—I am that
misfit music, that
two-headed Ken,

that Whoopsupsidethehead,
antsinyourpants
whatcanIsay:

I bum-rush the world,
find another world inside:
that last chance,
the lost choir,
that Ghost Dance
come again—

who says
we can’t

be free?
 
 
 
← Tim Seibles