He opened the door and walked out
he had two poems with him
a poem of pain in his left pocket and
a poem of hope in the right pocket
in the back pocket he kept a letter
he walked at a pace he had forgotten for so long
the road did not know how to tell him the way
so he went about look for the neon sign of love
he does not know even now how long he walked
but he reached there and did what he wanted
he peed under the neon sign
made a small hole in the mud and planted the poem of pain
the letter he tore into pieces and left on the road
so the next late night truck can throw it in the air
And for the poem of hope
well he did not need that any more
his poems were not for people to read
let them find the neon sign if they want it
and for finding him
he does not exist except in his poems
Categories: National Poetry Month, Poetry
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