Carpe Diem
by: Billy Collins
As the coffee was brewing,
I learned from a book
that the trunks of elephants
are sensitive enough
to pick up a coin
and powerful enough to smash
a tiger to the ground,
and that was more than
enough seizing the day for me.
It is the day after a long holiday weekend, and the last thing that was on my mind today was seizing the day. I simply wanted to sneak into my office, avoid human contact as much as possible, and then sneak out again.
That isn't exactly the way my day went, of course. I had work to get done, people to talk to, emails and texts to answer. Being stealthy just wasn't in the cards for me. To be honest, it never is.
My favorite part of the day: working with one of my best poet friends on her manuscript. I love the process of rolling up my sleeves and getting my hands poetically dirty. It helps that my friend is one of the funniest people I know.
There it is. Nothing earth-shattering happened. Nobody died or was injured. I am still employed, and I'm still a poet.
Saint Marty survived. Carpe diem.
Manuscript IKEA
by: Martin Achatz
We lay poems
on the floor
like loose bricks,
begin building
a book without
downloading any
instructions, hoping
none of the pieces
are missing. Maybe
we should have paid
for the extended
warrantee.
It was a day of building, crafting, refining ideas, applying even more glue to a friendship, and laughing, so much laughing, at life’s surprising craziness.
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