This poem is about language
and all that junk
(bunk you think)
Look at it watching you. You look out
the window, fidget, glance
at your shoelace,
think backwards in Arabic.
These words just bounce - boing -
off your eyeball
into airy trampoline space.
You miss it. It misses you.

Sadly this poem wants to be understood,
will loiter outside the door of your mind
scratch softly, shyly
shed similies and syllables
purr in iambs
drop its paradoxes into a pond even.

How could you ignore it?
You bastard. Let it in.