A POEM PLACE

There is a poem place in me
Where I only go
When I feel the manic longing
To cry and laugh while hugging a stranger
A place where I am fifteen
And am in love with everything
And fascinated by people’s every movement
In a coffee shop
I can spend weeks, a month
Without going to the poem place
Suspended in the worry place
And the work place
And the menial tasks place
The laundry folding place
But
If I remember to
I’ll put some headphones on
Close my work notes
And let myself wriggle around
In the place
Where everything has special importance
Where the brief moment when a woman
Looks out the window from her book
Means that she is obviously wrapped in something revelatory
And anything could mean
The end of the world

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