So here we all are,
discussing art, poetry and the modern poets.
Here we are, with our quirks
our tattoos, our playlists
our countries of origin.
I’m one hundred percent Greek,
my friend is Mexican, Australian,
American, Indian, Albanian,
a mini-multicultural microcosm
of poets. We share the best lines
over morning coffee, exchange smiles
over lunch and family pictures over supper.
In another life we were at the courts
with a glass of wine and time on our hands,
quill and ink, ideologies and war,
we had each other close.
Now technology draws us so close
we can almost smell each other’s
perfume. We can almost feel
each other’s pain. We can create a
movement, change CEO’s reports,
shock them with a poetic force.
We are turning the hands
of time forward,
And still art
and poets do not make money
let us work our two jobs,
go back to school,
raise a family,
write at midnight,
check our status updates.
Here we are.
Ready for the darts
Here we are
at your disposal
but at least
we have each other’s back
from oceans and miles away.
The poet’s circle