Topic? Topic? Topic?

You ask me for the TOPIC, me the poet.
The problem is I often do not know it.

I have to guess
and guess
and guess again:

regret regrets

none of them will do

I finally make something up
(nature, I think I said) ,
splash water in your cup
so you will let me be
and then I punch the key


What topic did you choose for me?
I can not find the answer.
It's out there in the ether;
it must have fallen loose somewhere.
Let me take a breather.
Maybe I should be a dancer,
rather than a poet without a topic.

The topic of the poem - if you really need it,
then why don't you take a minute, call it up,

and READ it!

by Frank Avon

Comments (1)

I like the way this is written...