✶ Drinking From the Same Dream ✶ V

i fall into the arms of my friends

from a distance

arrive in their toronto apartments near big parks

it is spring and grey no colour not even the rain

contains light

her apartment with the dumb old locks

dragging my baggage up the stairs

to arrive at her little oasis

i await poetry to flow again into my mind

patient and seductive

the role of the poet is to

pluck plush

the role of the poet is to feel

to have the luxury of time to feel

and the feeling it hurts

so the poet must hurt in order to feel

but the pleasure is equal

the role of the poet is to pluck

magic from the ugly