The Poem Hunter Poem by Max Reif
The Poem Hunter
I sat all day in the blinds in the marsh,
trying to trap a poem.
I set my traps in the deep woods.
I dug a hole in the ice,
but the poems weren't biting.
The poems were too smart for me,
they were onto my ways.
They'd gotten my scent
and stayed away.
I was getting hungry,
starving for poems.
I was wasting away.
FEMA never brought me any poems.
The government never air-dropped
any Poems-Ready-To-Go.
At last, a small poem came by,
but it wasn't much,
it didn't have much meat.
I'm starting to think
these regions are all poemed out.
I need to head for a wilder place.
Really enjoyed this one Max, a nice, different angle to poem writing. An enjoyable read, thanks for posting it. Love Ernestine XXX
Very clever, Max. In Part 2, you can describe what it was like to chance upon two poems procreating (One of the poems had a very long metaphore) .
Yes sometimes it feels like this Max. All the traps are out but not a bite. Clever poem. Thank you much enjoyed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 3:08:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
i had been watching the Discovery channel all weekend, and this particular piece made me laugh out loud. the cynicism and humour was especially strong in the last bit. Jake