BOGIE
See me sayin’ it like he would-
eyeballin’ you over a toke
on the stub of a Lucky Strike
... hangin’ from that crocodile smile:
“If you took every page
out of every notebook
written by every poet
from the beginning
to the end of time
and stacked ‘em all,
right up to the moon-
all you’d get is a handful
of gray dust.”
Cause poetry
is Humphrey Bogart, baby-
500 feet tall,
grinnin’ like a wolf
while he slaps the sky
with a backhanded smack,
grabbing the heavens
by their fancy lapels
and shakin’ ‘em
till one by one
all the stars fall out.
-Brandon Whitehead
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favorite poem of mine.
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