The Poem Was In Your Pocket
Someone –
probably me –
forgot the poem
left in the pocket
of the pants put
in the wash
maybe not just once
but two or three times
so now the paper’s
permanently folded,
words molded together
along the corner seams,
so it’s lucky someone –
probably me –
recalls the first lines
of the poem now stuck
together, the trapped
lines still flow so easily
8 thoughts on "The Poem Was In Your Pocket"
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Oh my!
A most relatable wordsmith situation!
Enjoyed this.
Thanks! It was inspired by Poem in the Pocket Day some weeks back …
i love the image of a poet an inktrapper.
I just did this a week ago but the paper was totally shredded and ruined. My lines are trapped forever, I guess, glad your own lines were not on this relatable piece.
I really enjoyed this
This poem gave me a sense of delight. I write all over creation as a lot of writers do. Inside books, on restaurant placemats, receipts from Walgreens. You name it, I’ve probably scribbled something on it. “The trapped/lines still flow so easily” suggests that we don’t really lose the lines.
As writers do … I often say I’ve lost more poems in online spaces and on paper than I have found …
🙂
Kevin
The title is alluring. The repeated lines of “someone/probably me” give the poem that absentminded quality a lot of us have – writing words/phrases/lines on whatever is handy and then sticking them in odd places. Yes, those words still live! Nicely done!