The Poem

Don't you put the poem
in a headlock — You are under arrest!

The poem won't obey orders.

The poem doesn't do well in isolation cells.
The poem rambles around the suburbs
rummages through other people's trash
it packs a gun.

The poem distrusts the law and the courts,
yet trusts in a higher justice.
The poem gets into arguments with any old passers-by
barges in on the CEO
making vile accusations. Shows
no respect. Smells badly
(shit & roses).

The poem happily waits in line for a thunderstorm.
The poem spends the night in solitude
and wild ecstasy.
The poem hangs around in airports
and on board overcrowded ferries.
The poem is largely political, but hates
politics.
The poem is cantankerous,
but speaks only on rare occasions.

The poem spoils the party.
The poem is always ready to take of its jacket
and meet you outside.
The poem's got a
case of the jitters.

Translation Heather Spears
© Niels Hav