Today's poem is by Philip Memmer
Lucifer's Beginning Poetry Workshop
Lucifer loves the beginners.
He loves how their hands shake
as they pull their Xeroxed drafts
from their untattered folders,
and the way, bright as they are,
it takes them two months to learn
to pass those poems to their peers
in an organized fashion. It reminds him
of creation, the galactic mess
spinning from his Father’s hands
hands beyond holding, as white
as starlight, unblemished
but for long-bitten nails.
He likes to read the descriptions
of his students’ fathers’ hands, huge
and calloused with labor, as if
they’d done something new
beneath the sun. He savors
their familiar emotions,
the familiar deserted woods
where each walks a well-beaten path
they insist is less-traveled.
Give up, he tells each one,
Try law, medicine, the clergy
even God had the modesty,
after making this first failed world,
to take a rest. But in truth,
he applauds how they go on,
how week after week
the dreadful drafts are brought forth...
Lucifer reads them all
and calls them good.
Copyright © 2008 Philip Memmer All rights reserved
from The American Poetry Journal
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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