Today is Poetry at Work Day, sponsored by TweetSpeak Poetry. In honor of the celebration, I offer the following:
Poets At Work
Neruda's in hot peppers
clearly hiding from his hon.
Keats sneaks in among the chocolates,
dares Rossetti to have some fun.
On Tumblr, Rumi's running late
but Teasdale's there along with Yeats.
Their dance goes on, the music swells,
and Rich dives in, in the moment dwells.
Old Eliot's Cheshire cat just gloats.
Poor Emily's gone, her dash denotes
how Plath is jazzed by Langston Hughes.
Not Poe? Alas, the raven squawks anew.
Hall's writing essays, not poetry dark;
Levine's in rain in Ford Highland Park.
Bishop, at the fishhouses, complains of cold
and Rankine spins, another cop's got hold.
Olds, passing mirrors, turns away
and Berryman's Henry, spellbound, holds sway.
Snyder sets up to work in woods,
he's not into dream songs in his 'hood.
We come now to an end of sorts—
haiku's great masters to nature resort.
Some others to banking or doctoring go
but most to teaching; it pays, you know.
© 2014, 2015 Maureen E. Doallas
Poets in Order of Appearance
Edgar Allan Poe