Day Eighty

It's Katie's birthday, and since she's more than half the reason I started reading poetry in the first place, I dedicate these poems to her. The following two poems are from "180 More: Extraordinary Poems for Every Day," the first book of poetry Katie introduced me to. I'm posting two because I can't bring myself to just post "Nothing In That Drawer" (I think it's stupid but Katie loves it, so it's for her).

Nothing in That Drawer

by Ron Padgett

Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.
Nothing in that drawer.

"Even Ornaments of Speech are Forms of Deceit"

by Ron Koertge

It’s 1667. Reason is everywhere, saving
for the future, ordering a small glass of wine.
Cause, arm in arm with Effect, strolls by
in sturdy shoes.

Of course, there are those who venture
out under cover of darkness to buy a bag
of metaphors or even some personification
from Italy, primo and uncut.

But for the most part, poets like Roderigo
stroll the boulevards in their normal hats.
When he thinks of his beloved, he opens
his notebook with a flourish.

“Your lips,” he writes, “are like
lips.”