consider me a poet

for a moment
consider me a poet.

would you hand over your soul to me?
or hand me over...
to your friends,
your mother,
neighbours.

here he is, the poet.

consider my affection

that it is not attached
and will not be taken without a struggle.

finding me gone...
and my touch not entrapment

did I lie


Early 70's (winter of 72-3?)