Click Page 22

Poetry of Issue #8        Page 22


Unaccountably, while I was eating a liverwurst sandwich

(with mustard and cornichon, on rye)

the poem took a dive

off the countertop, I don’t know why,


onto the floor and burst into words

which can be either blunt or sharp, heaven knows.

There was nothing to do

but sweep it up

eat the sandwich and, and…

…put on shoes.

R. Dickerson