Poetry Should Ride the Bus
Ruth Forman
poetry should hopscotch in a polka dot dress
wheel cartwheels
n hold your hand
when you walk past the yellow crackhouse
poetry should dress in fine plum linen suits
n not be so educated that it don’t stop in
every now n then to sit on the porch
and talk about the comins and goins of the world
poetry should ride the bus
in a fat woman’s Safeway bag
between the greens n chicken wings
to be served with Tuesday’s dinner
poetry should drop by a sweet potato pie
ask about the grandchildren
n sit through a whole photo album
on a orange plastic covered La-Z-Boy with no place to go
poetry should sing red revolution love songs
that massage your scalp
and bring hope to your blood
when you think you’re too old to fight
yeah
poetry should whisper electric blue magic
all the years or your life
never forgettin to look you in the soul
ever once in a while
n smile.
from We Are The Young Magicians Beacon Press April 1, 1993
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