a new kind of love poem
bcjennyo turned me onto The Writer's Almanac a few weeks ago when I commented on one of the poems she'd posted. It's become a regular stop on my blog list and today's poem was especially amusing.
Which are you -- a red ribbon trapped in a goat's fur or a mosquito from New Jersey?
What We Might Be, What We Are
by X. J. Kennedy
If you were a scoop of vanilla
And I were the cone where you sat,
If you were a slowly pitched baseball
And I were the swing of a bat,
If you were a shiny new fishhook
And I were a bucket of worms,
If we were a pin and a pincushion,
We might be on intimate terms.
If you were a plate of spaghetti
And I were your piping-hot sauce,
We'd not even need to write letters
To put our affection across,
But you're just a piece of red ribbon
In the beard of a Balinese goat
And I'm a New Jersey mosquito.
I guess we'll stay slightly remote.
borrowed from today's edition of The Writer's Almanac