How To Teach Poetry Better Than Anyone Else

The trip

...And when I leave,

I want to go with dignity.

Thus,

no dirty dishes in the sink,

the bathroom and the bedroom,

all very tidy.

In the living room, however,

to leave the TV on,

and that it be on a TV News,

because life goes on.

Nothing is over.

I'm just going for a walk,

there, in that other world,

no suitcase, no passport,

taking only me

the infinite smell of our love...

My Moment That Is Still Yours

I made a song for you

With imprecise and unexpected chords

With lyrics emphasizing hurts and flowers

Withdrawals of your tears and smiles

I made a lullaby

With my silly smile and delighted look

Strumming my long forgotten guitar

Dedicating your sleep to monochord sonnets

I drew your eyes on canzon sheets

With my 6B pencils and my jagged lines

brought your attention to me again

I brought resentments again and some pastel chalk

I wrote a poem with your name

And in it my paragraphs were disconnected

Which always ended in ellipses

To never finish what reality snatched at me

I offered my day to day

I treated you like poetry

I fought with frenzy

I exalted you in the form of supremacy

Today I left the day back to me

I painted my pictures gray

I finished my unfinished sentence texts

I moved my furniture around (...)

I dedicated my day to you

The grays gave colors to your favorite colors

My sentences dedicated the letters of your name

And I went back to leaving my room the same way you left it.