An Epic Poem
Aug 12 2008


You read a poem
at your desk,
counting the seconds until recess.
Or perhaps to impress a girl;
the whole time
distracted by her perfection.
So far
no hero, no quest,
but you want to see what happens next,
sticking it out to the end.

A single page
— you know, you checked —
and nothing much has happened yet.
But you’ve heard poets are masters
of misdirection,
and you’re all keyed-up for the unexpected,
some clever twist
some slick deception.

And just like that
the poet has you where he planned
all along
— at the end of the page,
keenly awaiting
the sequel.