Jose

Jose claimed he
Was a poet and he
Was always thinking
Of lines and stanzas

your eyes are beautiful

He carried an empty
Notepad in his back
Pocket and when a poem
Came to him he’d reach
For that notepad

At that moment
Someone always blurted
Out in a loud voice

Jose, we need a
Mop on
Aisle three!

Jose would get
That mop and clean up
The spilled spaghetti
Sauce or dill pickles
Or whatever else

He’d finish cleaning
The mess and another
Poem would come to him
And he’d reach for his note
Pad

And again the voice
Would call
Out

Jose, we need
A mop on
Aisle four!

And Jose cleaned
That
Up

Jose would go home
And drink a
Couple beers

He’d hang his
Pants on the door knob
With the notepad
In the back pocket

He’d fall asleep,
Sometimes landing in
His dreams

The next day he’d
Start all over
Again

Jose

An unfinished
Poem

Just
Getting
Started

© 2008 Tony Robles

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