Brandon
Whitehead
Bogie
See
me sayin’ it like he would-
eyeballin’ you over a
toke
on the stub of a Lucky
Strike
hangin’ from that crocodile
smile:
“If you
took every page
out of every notebook
written by every poet
from the beginning
to the end of time
and stacked ‘em all,
right up to the moon-
all you’d get is a
handful
of gray
dust.”
Cause
poetry
is Humphrey Bogart,
baby-
500 feet tall,
grinnin’ like a wolf
while he slaps the sky
with a backhanded
smack,
grabbing the heavens
by their fancy lapels
and shakin’ ‘em
till one by one
all the stars fall
out.
Brandon
White head is a writer from Kansas City,
Missouri.
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