Puttering Around the Kitchen at 3.56 am

James Wright might have called a poem something like this.
He might have marvelled at the number of teaspoons
A man can go through in the course of day if he drinks coffee.
They lie, with puddles of dark tears in their silver concavities,
By the half-dozen, by the dozen, in the kitchen sink.

I work, if one can call it work, by the night-light, the bulb
Emitting twenty-five watts under the hood of the stove.
I don't need to see what I'm doing in the glare of sixty:
This is familiar territory. I know where the refrigerator is,
And where the faucets are. The towels, the coffee-pot.

It's a good thing I don't smoke. I'd have done that,
As I do everything else, with avaricious compulsion.


I'll nuke up a mugful of Folgers in a few, then maybe
Settle in front of the laptop and let fly with a poem or two.





Poetry by Thomas D The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2020-05-07 at 10:03

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a fine example of a good poem with a mundane subject. What's described is far less important than the artistry of the description.

Why don't you reuse your spoons?
2020-05-07


bibek adhikari The PoetBay support member heart!
3.56 am, the time for puttering? Ha, the entire poem looks back at the process of writing poetry in such a jovial way. Love that!
2020-05-07