The Young Poet
#tanka
#haiku
#poetry
#sex
#youth
#repression
The lazy trees’ songs
Reach me across the meadow,
And I sigh with them,
Letting out the air in me
Like a deflating mattress.
*
“No, that isn’t right
That isn’t quite flattering”
He tries it again—
Letting out the air in me,
In a soft and drawn-out sigh.
*
He ponders the world
As the clouds above stroll by.
If more time were spent this way,
The world might be enlightened
*
He dares not tell us
The last cloud reminded him
Of something phallic,
That he laughed for five minutes
Before somberly lying
*
And telling to us
That it was a nice flower
For a nice bouquet
In an elaborate ploy
To forsake his youth too soon.
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