what is a poet
but a wounded Coyote
who bleeds so beautifully
you forget it’s dying.
I was not born with confidence,
nor was it given to me by my parent(s);
I had to cultivate my confidence
over the years of fun failures.
when I was a boy,
I had no idea what a poet was,
until I read Dreams
by Langston Hughes.
42 years later,
I wanna make a record of classical music
in the vein of Chopin’s Nocturnes
with poetry sung over it.
a prayer scratched into piano wire,
a voice dragging itself across a frozen field,
bloody, tattooed knuckles
pounding the door of whatever comes next.