POEM OF THE WEEK

by Tom Miller - 12/22/98

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1998

 

i

haven’t written much lately

but there is still drinking

 

smoking cigarettes and

marijuana

 

all the poet’s vices

idea makers and shakers

 

with the split pea soup

on the pot

 

and fingers on the run

pecking out more of a

 

ramble than a poem

this poet enjoys the gold

 

in cuervo especial

and i in only a towel

 

my neck cracks

like a machine gun

 

the blinds are closed

the light is out

 

heading into next year

right after christmas finishes

with us

 

1999

seems like a song i heard yesterday

 

 

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