Poem Swallowing Itself
Reading aloud—
people turn their heads
and step back, never
imagining what lies behind,
expecting neither snakes
nor bear traps nor other ambush.
Beginning where one ends, or
continuing a conversation
over decades, the truth
rises then subsides,
like soaring vultures or
cubes in scotch whiskey.
Measuring volume by
glance, the poem shivers,
opens its mouth wide.
“Poem Swallowing Itself” first appeared here in April 2016.
O at the Edges 
Oh, yes. Ars poetica, beautifully done.
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Some poems take on lives of their own, 🙂
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There’s something mercifully ephemeral about “cubes in Scotch whiskey.”
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They, too, dissipate. 🙂
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Here’s to vultures on the rocks
… and truth that shocks.
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Thank you, David. Cheers to vultures!
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nice work!
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Thank you, Anthony.
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“Continuing a conversation over decades…”
Fills my heart.
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Thanks very much!
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Oooh, WOW.
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Thank you!
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Most welcome, Robert–you keep raising the bar for us, year after year…now and then I know I must have done okay, as you “like” a post or 2 🙂 🙂 Blessings on your week!
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GULP! Ahhh… this is what good poetry tastes like. 🙂
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It helps to chew a little before swallowing. 🙂
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