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?

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!