Poet’s Wife at a Poetry Reading

Maroon, hard-ass plastic
chairs arranged, in haphazard
semi-circle around The Podium,
discount chardonnay and store-bought
sweets “breathe” on a folding table.

I am not a poet

I do not speak       in soliloquy,
rhyme, metaphor, or simile.

I do not speak       in the static, soft,
sing-song voice that lures

the waking mind       elsewhere. I speak
straight from the heart, that which
makes me angry        elated        heartbroken.

I am not a poet

I don’t paint pictures       with words,
my life is simple, challenging,

normal, chaotic. I am me, yet
in words, there is truth
beauty        love        life

poetry        is me.


This was written by my wife, Annette, who is a badass for a variety of reasons.  We were at a post-Thanksgiving party / poetry reading the other night and she actually got up and read this in front of the group.  Her first reading in front of a group of people.  She was great and that night might’ve been the highlight of 2015.