This new poem is demanding space

Its own room actually

It insists I clean out cobwebs

And put new sheets on the bed

It insists on regular meals

A full deep cleaning

Hourly sprucing up

It demands its own shower for new ideas

It wants room to expand, grow

To evaporate and come back again

It wants it all,

This poem wants it’s own space

every bit of attention

It has baggage

It has trunks full of memorabilia

This poem needs space

and I am forced to give it

I don’t expect it to help with the rent either