Saturday, 3 June 2017


I've got a claw to 
practice scratching on
my cave wall here.
It just grew in last year.

Let me tell you the story
of the shoeless man just
out of prison who asked me
for some light.

Better yet, let me tell you
about my den, where I
hide from the crash
of business sounds, leading
my secret little poet life.

Can't put a poem on a memo.
They would send you packing,
but still I find home
in a few sentences strung 
together in a Word document.

I can't change or stop
the world, but I might at
least create a shelter
with some sound.

Alan Inman
New York, NY 

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