~The Poet’s Poet~
He has all the ingredients at his fingertips
Next step, the kneading process
Onto the invisible pan, toss them skywards
Making sure to catch each and every one
26 may sound like a small number
But if you happen to drop one
25 becomes practically impossible to work with
Horror of horrors there would be more of a flurry in a graveyard
With the full complement he can add shade to shade
He can have Jack Kerouac sitting close by
Ray Charles in St. Peters Square playing piano to the masses
Uncle Sam crying into his beer following the election
Of a “president” the world did not want?
He can create any world he wishes it would have Alan Ginsberg in it.
A black panther chewing away on the bones of Father Time
Would then indicate it was time to call a halt
Lay the thinking cap to one side, take a deep breath
Slip his arms into the straight jacket and take his medicine.
He left the room, it was so quiet outside you could just about hear leaves cry.
All happening under the looming shadow of Alfred Hitchcock.
© Chris Black. March 2019