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The following poem was written for Andrew, but it’s also for Jack, Leo and all the rare ones who recognize what IT is, and see through the bullshit of anything.
the ones who fire off a page
I can hear almost touch smell
like my lover’s scent gets inside
whose spirit was fleshed: bled hurt
kept riding its rhythm toward the poem
he heard wordless every waking moment
the rare ones who make me see
in everything that’s flawed isn’t there
everything they can be and now are
because they’ve shown me
the only ones worth having--
like breath must be let go
©2003, Linda Lerner
Most of Linda’s earlier collections were published by Ye Olde Font Shoppe. Her two most recent books are Greatest Hits (1989-2002) from Pudding House & A Koan for Samsara (2003, from Ibbetson Street Press).
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