No one reads poetry anymore (dude sitting in the Barnes & Nobel cafe with your $5 latte, peeking over the edge of the book of poems you don’t fully comprehend to see who is gazing in awe at your intellectual superiority – I’m not talking to you). There are people who are voracious readers who couldn’t tell you the last time they read a poem that wasn’t engraved on a greeting card. I’m not judging. Hell, I don’t read that much poetry, either. I just think it’s a shame and I wonder what was the cause.
One reason may be that some poetry can’t be completely understood just reading it once. Some poems have to be mulled over and digested to fully appreciate. Who has that kind of time? People usually read for an escape from reality, not as a reminder of what high school English homework was like. There are poets out there that do write instantly enjoyable poems that even prose-only readers can appreciate. One that comes to mind (and that most have heard of) is Shel Silverstein. Yes, they are technically children’s poems, but they are intelligently written and can appeal to an adult sense of humor as well. I know that there are more, and I would like to find them.
And, so you can say you read a poem today, here’s one from me:
The End of the Dog
I am a flea
who’s dog has died,
left without a
home or hide.
My family and I
need a new habitation.
Closing upon us is
the threat of extinction.
In the few moments
on the dog remaining,
I can’t help but
spend time remembering . . .
Evacuation drills
for the “Big Dip,”
all the scenic views
from his tail’s tip.
My favorite spots
to sit and chew,
mom’s secret recipe
for Dog’s Hair Stew.
Now it is time
to pack up and go,
exits are to the rear
and down by the nose.
As we leave, I
look back one last time,
but fresh meat awaits
leave the dead dog behind.
Search we must for
a new host to bite.
No one said it was easy
being a parasite.
