The Poet Reads

by Derek Osborne

If ever I read a poem aloud

it will not be from a podium's shelter

it will not be with dismembered voice

lilting eyes and knowing smile

you'll miss all that careful enunciation

you'll miss the design and alliteration

the hand-picked crippling dance academic

I won't be waiving an MFA

But laughter and thunder

that much I do promise

the wisdom of living the witness in death

the small cry of wonder surrender

in knowing both love and the mirror

blood from a wound

here at my table gluttony triumphs