Tonight I went to a bookstore, my favorite place. And unfortunately, the only one in this town open past dinner.
And as I was loitering in the poetry section, a friend who works there was suggesting e.e cummings.
Taking out a tome, he found a few poems folded up inside.
He actually recognized them. A poet earlier had asked him if he could put some of his poems out on display.
My friend declined, because that’s his job. He was nonplussed by the defiance.
But this poet stuck them inside a few volumes in the poetry section– I was impressed.
A poet’s gotta do what a poet’s gotta do.
Even more interesting, this poet has a blog here at WordPress.
You can check him out HERE.
I like his stuff.
Especially “54 Marks of Grief,” — on a page with four short poems. And a longer one, “Apple Tree Garden.”
His name is Aaron Wiley, and I want to give him props for ingenuity.
Maybe I’ll try that!
How cool would it be if he started a movement of poets sneaking their work into books at bookstores all over the country?
Aaron Wiley, you’re onto something dude.