quatorzain 512: Meeting the Lizard Poet


He was bathed in the stench of desperation,
reeking of nerves and alcohol, standing
naked in the street, pen in hand and stut-
tering some rant about a world gone mad—
that’s how I met him in theArizona
sun somewhere near Sedona. We toasted
everything with shots of tequila and some
substance more mysterious.          Later, more
sober and less desperate, he asked me
my life story and I told him it was
too droll to tell. “I was born, I lived, and
I’ll die,” he told me sagely. “That’s as
interesting as it gets. Otherwise,
we wouldn’t need fiction and poetry.”

David M Pitchford
24 February 2012

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s