The Poor Poet

Even if you stared at the moon through 
a telescope with bifocals on you still 
wouldn’t see the big picture; 
wouldn’t feel the mountains moving 
at the wand cue of your faith.

This is where impossible becomes the 
laughing-stock of a visionaries dreamworld - 
across the street from drunkards ave 
and around the corner from miscreants 
boulevard.

We dodge the hands of our predecessors 
demons the same way corner boys do 
policeman.

Being that curious boy has taught me more 
than you could imagine.
We have more in common than you think.

The only difference is when our 
surroundings told us it was a dead end, 
we were too alive and hardheaded to listen.