Finding The Right Poem
Have you heard the one
about the goat-footed balloon man,
The little guy who sells balloons
so that eddieandbill come running
From playing marbles? Seriously, Eddie and Bill,
you see—are friends
And spend so much time together
that they blend into one, a two-boy clump,
And that poem is scattered
all over the place. Or the one about
The little girl who had a little curl
right in the middle of her forehead?
Well, never mind. That’s half the poem.
The rest of it doesn’t turn out well.
Spoiler Alert! The girl is horrid. Let’s turn instead
to lemonade and water towers.
Imagine! A big spigot on the outside
so that you and your brothers
and the whole neighborhood could
drink lemonade all year. That’s the poem
you want, my young friend,
something brick and sturdy—
a stockade for lemons, a huge vat
of tart and sweetness— built to last.