Listening to poetry,
is listening to beauty.
It is watching someone steal
watching words trot and stretch about
hearing words make sounds,
hearing the laughter from the sound of a sob.
I see somber smiles
see thoughts i never finished thinking dance.
heartbeats and life in rhythm
noting the sound of fact and fiction
and their discrepancies.
I watch reaction,
watch people move each other,
and people become a temple-
devoted to the worship of art.
I am reaching down and picking up the double-meaning
spit by the mouth's of thieves.
If it were up to me,
I'd make them take a test on road rules,
before they gain poetic license.