L'aura del Campo

Cavern of rhythmic sobs.

Cavern of rhythmic sobs

Here we peruse rows of titles, black inked pages, colored covers,
pats-on-the back from fellow poets: untruths and bald-faced lies.

We come here on sticky days when fans stir thick air.
We sit on leather or hard backed chairs. Walls echo aimless chatter.

We focus on words these poets share.
Their bald-faced-lies that pass as truth.

Then a kernel of truth becomes a seed of a poem that will change lives.
In this cavern of rhythmic sobs we weep over uncovered lies.

© Kåre Enga 2015.06.27

Written while Jill Koren read from her book of poems at Shakespeare & Co.

79.124