My title is from one of my favorite poems from one of my favorite poets, Mark Strand. I'll include the poem at the end. I basically needed a place to put my creative writing online, because I'm a narcissist like that. I really think that's all that needs to be said. Other than I am going to try to post every week day (*crosses fingers*) barring holidays. In this way I am hoping to push myself to write daily. Also, I will probably post poems from others that I think are worth reading. Enjoy
Eating Poetry by Mark Strand
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.
The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.
The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.
Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.
She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.