Friday, January 1, 2016

Poem One


What's the expected first line
on the first day of a New Year?

I don't know either.

Is it the breeze from the fan
blowing by my ankles?

Could it be that cool pool of water
that tempts me but hasn't lured me

Yet.

Should it be about that mug of coffee
with or without the tequila cream?

What about the Mexican mistletoe
that is now in a bowl?

Or the pipe
that has become my new best friend?

I don't know that first line
but it's another new year

And I'm restless.


— Mark Butkus