Today's poem is by C. J. Sage

No Wasn't Full

No wasn't full
and nobody did
anything. All sighed,

Be nice, No.
Colt with a bridle,
always trotting along.

Pounds of some
other world gone

No didn't matter,
poor thing. It settled
itself in a valley

of ago, hatching
and clucking, set back
from the street,

hovering even.
No slunk to the fair,
stealing breadcrumbs.

All teased, Eat up, No.
Pony with a hay bale
on its rear.

No didn't care,
silly people. It held
itself in a backpack

of So. Scratching
and clawing, feathers
in its teeth, No slept.


No parks, the past
a classic solid.
Balding, No grasps

a dark oak display case.
Shown a thick glass
door, Yes says,

A sock's not built to last.
Picky No seeks
a certain kind.

Pulled away, Yes
gets a little rush
of passing.


No tilted a cot
on its side,
dropped arms

like scissors
over it. Rolling
along pillows,

No crawled,
skimmed like wind
the sheets,

shuffled the indoor
palms. Look,
said Yes, the tree

grows pale.
Yes caught thunder
in its teeth,

beaming. A kingbird's
wings grumbled;
a patch of forest

No welcomed
the place "learnéd

and revered."
People said the land
belonged to prayer.

Copyright © 2010 C. J. Sage All rights reserved
from New Orleans Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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