Handyman Poet

The handyman poet finds himself devoid

Of the telegraphic gene, constitutionally unable

To manipulate figures for some distant purpose-

Accordingly he comes to accept the shovel

Or pipewrench or screwdriver placed in his hand,

Comes to value a life among squirrels bluejays

And vivid CLOUDS

by Craig Steiger

Other poems of STEIGER (138)

Comments (1)

Ah, the handyman poet Must surely be from Arkansas For he knows how to do it. That is using his hammer and saw. The Arkansas screwdriver is Nothing more than a hammer In his fist Which he uses ever. And the saw Is nothing new But ever raw Which he tries anew. So it is with the Arkansas writer Who knows just how to make it fit And puts pencil to paper So that words spew from it. Then he can, like us all Come to enjoy the vision That comes with fall When the clouds drift away And leave the animals (Us included) in their play. s (No offense to the poets of Arkansas as they are a most imaginative bunch!)