Reams of Poetry Adrift

one poetry market
they threw your poems out
distributed them
to barroom bathrooms
bus stop benches
soapy Laundromat counters
they said they wanted to “get ur shit out”
get it out where it might do some good

Bukowski’s been in that one
Lin Lifshin too
and old Bull Lee
had Whitman been here, him too probably
and most likely Vachel as well
before he drank Lysol

it’s a vision all right —
poems lying in the gutter
reams of poetry adrift in puddles
on whore-night streets
and hangover dawns
beside cum-filled condoms
on blustery streets
the final destination of every immortal thought

ask any drifter with a poem in his pack

Retired now from life’s work as CNC machinist, George Thomas has been
writing poetry for most of his life with some little success but not enough
to encourage him. Recently Washington State poet laureate Tod Marshall
included one of his poems in WA129, an anthology of Washington poets.