— tspoetry (@tspoetry) April 3, 2014
Nancy got a little worried about all the ne’er-do-wells who might show up looking for a little poetry (not to mention the sterling silver).
@nancyfranson Only poetic twitter thieves will show up. Put some Neruda on the doorstep. Save them the trouble of breaking glass. 😉
— tspoetry (@tspoetry) April 4, 2014
The conversation shifted to Facebook, where, as happens from time to time, Nancy dared me (she owes me) to write a poem about the poetry thieves. One thing led to a masked robber, and before we knew it we were checking in on our hapless raccoon, the subject of a previous Facebook-dared poem about roadkill.
Poetry doesn’t have to be so serious all the time. Given the chance, it surely can have a little fun with itself.
in the diminution of verse–
marginalized, a raccoon
affixed a mask, black,
thin, o’er beady li’l eyes.
Hi ho nothing, he slapped
the mottled hind
parts of a less
on a dusty Western trail,
pushed the volume
to the remote crook
of his arm. There’s no stealing
Franson won’t miss