When They Come For the Poets, They Won’t Find Me

Everyone knows

In those lawless days,

The poets are the first to go.


But I, dear leader,

Am a master of disguise

I hide in plain sight


Because everyone knows

A poet is a predator

And can’t help stalking poetic prey


Stealth is the key to survival

So I camoflauge

I wear my fear like skin


And everyone knows

That years of hiding

Changes a man’s shape


Until I am a shadow

Nobody looks for shadows


And yet, everyone (?) knows that

Poetry only needs a pause

To turn and stalk you


It lurks in shadows

Where nobody else would search for me


And everyone knows

Being stalked by poetry

Changes a man


Shadow is my camouflage

My skin is my own


When they come looking

They won’t find me

I have been turned into a hunter.



3 thoughts on “When They Come For the Poets, They Won’t Find Me

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.