I like to write poems
like a cartoonist
working ten dailies
daily
introducing so many lines
of drawing
to draw out every hungry
breakfast reader.
I'll plead with those
fast broken by their toes
out of bed,
milk and cereal and hopefully
not orange juice,
let them come
with me
to the pages
and pages
and pages.
They add up,
like a garage
stuffed with
thirty years
of newspapers.
Does that reduce
their conviviality
and value?
The proliferation
of printed attrition?
Or does it dose
like a walk
something that cannot be done
all at once in one day
the same way poetry demands
at least from my hands
many many many sprays
of water on thirsty
orchid demands.
Roman Ryan 