I am cooking you dinner in a kitchen
That is full of stacks of paper.
I can't help that.
Thelonious Monk is on the cd player
And beans and tomatoes are in the pot.
I don't seem to have any control over when I get sad.
Is that normal?
Sunlight streams in through the windows
And washes my eyes clean.
I have birds that are not golden,
And one of them is bopping his head to the beat.
Birds often like Monk; try it for yourself.
I have plates that don't match and I drink too much coffee.
Walt Whitman wasn't worried about beginning poems with 'I.'
Neither was Rumi.
I think about death a lot; do you?
Doesn't everyone? I am sure that's normal.
Sometimes my sadness is like a symphony that only I can hear.
The beans are done and the rice is done
And now I am slicing bell peppers so that we can dip them in hummus.
An editor told me recently that he doesn't like poems that begin with 'I.'
But I don't really care what he likes.