short, quick, sharp

the poem is short,
the verse runs quick,
the stanza stabs, sharp
in words not swords,
cuts the flesh

the words dictated,
the ears swollen,
the pain erased
by more pain and words
cut the flesh, stab

the poem is short,
quick, sharp
it stabs
it kills
it dies


will tognetti (Groton, CT, 1979)

summon me, the undertaker

make it free, break the verse
unleash the poetry within
forget the i, i, i
but use it if you need it

in dreams i dreamed of poetry
verses dictated in the middle of the night
i jotted down some words
but in the next morning the handwriting was unreadable

so i try fall asleep
and summon the poet back
i hear his voice but now
he is up to something else

the recipe for shortcake i believe
and i tell him i don't need that
and he goes again: make it free, break the verse
unleash the poetry within


will tognetti (Groton, CT, 1979)