2020-06-30 10:27:55 UTC
Making It Write*
a poem by NancyGene
I met this guy, we wined and danced.
We could have been Bacall and Bogie,
a modern day Liz and Dick,
which he was and my name is Marie.
He said he was a poet, so that was a tip
he was looking for someone to pay
his bills because no poetry sells
but bullshit yells here on Broadway.
I purred to him that I too was a poet
to see how fast he’d evaporate
but surprisingly he urged me to recite
one of my better poems to date:
My cat has pink ears
My car is in arrears
My ex is a toad,
Whoa, my car was just towed.
He winced and said that he really should go;
we had little in common, we both knew.
I’ve forgotten his poems, our dancing and wine--
I have written him off but I can’t misconscrew.
*Inspired by Edward Rochester’s poem “Write or Wrong.”