It’s Wednesday, which means I’ll spend
the afternoon at my library, at the reference desk.
I’d much rather stay comfortably at home,
sip poured-through coffee in my pajamas,
and read poems my friends post on Facebook.
And what will they say of my verses when I am gone,
done? It’s fair to circumspect about the hereafter,
the other side, the end of now. Do you think
they’ll call my verses amateur (that’s what I call myself,
I’ll never make any money off non-rhyming poetry!)?
Will they criticize my work as shallow,
superficial, a bit naive? Or maybe dark,
troubled, complex (only out of a sense of charity,
of course). It won’t matter that much to me –
I’ll be resting peacefully, with poets, by the river.