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Shane Allison: poem
THIS IS THE POEM YOU WILL NOT FIND
ON THE WINDSHIELD OF YOUR CAR
For Doug
This is the poem I will not let you read.
This poem will not be kissed and sealed
away in an envelope to slide beneath
your apartment door.
This isn't something I can recite to you over the phone.
It will not be work shopped,
or sent to closest friends.
This poem is not a gift.
It's not what you think.
Not love or sex.
This poem will not be read
at any poetry reading,
or change the minds of the world.
This poem does not do tricks,
or make terroristic threats.
It is not about buckets of lemons
on porches, or love broken
in seven places.
This poem will not be sent out to off
the wall magazines.
I will blanket this poem in pen names.
I have hid it in a safe place
behind mama's good plates and punch bowl
she only uses for special occasions.
I pack the stanzas, metaphors
and similes with moth balls
secure from poetry eating moths.
No more lines written about frozen
chill thawing in sink or pet tarantulas.
This is the poem you will
not find on the windshield of your car.
Shane Allison's poetry has appeared previously in Devil Blossoms and The Doomed City. He lives in Tallahassee, FL.
