Hiding behind Metaphors

You’re doing it again, he said.

What?

Hiding behind metaphors.

What do you mean?

‘Claws’, ‘Whales’. ‘Billabongs’. All metaphors. Why don’t you say what you want to say? Get it out in the open.

I’m afraid.

Of what?

Of how ugly it all is. All that anger.

Face it ! Stare it down !

What would it look like?

It would be a different poem. It would bang and bellow. Draw blood. Howl with expletives.

Would anyone read it?

Possibly not. But it would be honest. And it wouldn’t have billabongs in it. Billabongs have to be earned. Not brought in after four lines. Your poem is the most polite poem on anger I’ve ever read.

Forklift Driver

I don’t want to be a forklift driver

the rest of my life

the 23 year-old from Perth said

just before he came on stage

and belted out

‘I Need You Tonight’ by INXS

only as good as Michael Hutchens

and he looked good,

strong, strapping with brown tumbling curls

& a sinuous, sexy voice

which filled the hall and lifted the coaches

& crowd

like a forklift driver

*pic courtesy of Wiki Commons

Standoffish

Your poems are standoffish, he says.

You put fences around them to keep

People out,

‘Trespassers Prosecuted’ signs to keep

Your poems secure,

Guard dogs patrolling the perimeter

Snarly with menace.

Call off the dogs, he says

Open up your poems.

What are you afraid of?

People got to walk around.

Let the sunshine in.

You’re supposed to listen to your writing coach, right?

Okay, okay, I say

As I take down the tall palings

One by one.

Put up a Welcome sign.

It’s a little scary for me too.