Thursday, October 25, 2012

2013 Pushcart Prize nominated poem

Packing for the future:

                                                (after Lorna Crozier)

Take a pair of socks.  Thick, blue or brown,
wherever you go, you’ll have to walk.  A velvet
pouch to hold the words, the seeds.  White
underwear. Pounds and pounds of laughter
wrapped tightly in a rice paper sack.  A few
golden coins, a water bottle.  Just stuff
one bundle and put a stick through it, carry it
on your shoulder.  Leave town walking
backwards to wave goodbye to the trees
and the neighbors.  Packing for the future
requires discipline:  know what you’ll need
and take what you won’t.  Take a pair of socks,
thick and brown, leave the rest behind.  Paper?
Pencils? Who needs them!  Speak your stories
to anyone who’ll listen.  Ask them
for a chicken leg in return, a slice of raisin bread.  


  1. Thank you Myra. You're always my fan.

  2. Your lines are a nice midway between Robert Creeley skinny and Ginsberg breath lines. Apt, as they are full of "stuff." This is harder to do than it looks, without creeping into prose poetry. Congrats again on the recognition.