Women and Words

Women and Words


I chose to write poems, although "choice"
is a bit strong. No one really takes poetry
seriously, especially those who pretend to,
but that's another poem.

Simply by virtue of writing poems, I became
a poet--that's the way it works, and so what?
I like that original choice as much as I like
the choices to befriend outcasts, say
the impolitic (as opposed to the fake
"politically incorrect"), remain unpolished,
hurl myself into this project and that, and
think too much with my cock and my tongue,

both desperately interested in women--
those magical creatures who are, yes I know,
just people (but are you sure?). So here I am
writing again in a notebook and online, in some
already forgotten pixel of the universe. This

writing works for no one.  Again: it works
for no one. It is unemployed. It is useless,
without economic value. It may also have
other virtues besides this. Who knows?

The thing is, when I realized words
and women were part of the universe, this
only world I know, I was, as they say, on board.
And now there's poetry. And one woman.


Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom