Poet Laureate – A Valentine

I’ve not craved the main stage.
I like a side stage.

I know what the Good Book says
about hankering after the head table,

and what the Good Lord thinks
of highfalutin manners.

And while I have trouble saying “I”
with a straight face,

I’m not above jealousy, so for penance
I’ll execute a downward dog in public.

I don’t need four wheels (unless
you count trainers), two will do.

I have two pairs of boots, one pair of shoes,
my wardrobe is laughable.

I’ve minored in The Idiocies
with surprisingly high marks.

I prefer lime to limelight.
I like editing better than inspiration.

I prefer Billy Collins to Lord Tennyson,
Sappho to Mr. Poe. I faked reading Milton.

I like the words festoon and spittle,
more than it’s reasonable.

I’m nearly unilingual
and I’m wild about contractions.

Modifiers however, put me in a subjunctive mood
when left dangling.

People say nice things about my books, like:
they can be read in one sitting,

or, they’re notable for reviving the idiom
of old chestnuts.

Some, not many, well one, said I’m a late bloomer —
which reminds me of knickers in old Westerns.

I’m a Nine on the Enneagram,
which is as high as you can go — or as low —

so this makes me nervous to tell you,
as I don’t want to upset or repel you,

but all I’ve ever really wanted
was to be your personal
poet laureate.

Friend,
may your Valentine’s Day be festooned with garlands of love!

12 Comments

  1. Consistently captivating… thank you for being this households poet laureate! Have a wonderful Valentine’s Day!

  2. I almost thought that your closing remark… might wish us to be festooned in spittle… but you majestically rose about my expectations. Seriously, though. High five… (unless that is as outdated an expression as am I). Happy Valentine’s Day. 🙂

  3. A very happy Valentine’s day dad!!! Love you ever so much and rather happy to have you as a personal poet laureate. : )

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