The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 5 - Page 5

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Two Poems by daniel mcginn:

the poem that got away

This poem was written on a crumpled cocktail napkin &

it fell out of my shirt pocket. I have no way of knowing how

many times this poem was stepped on before you picked it

up & pushed it into your back pocket.

This poem was litter until you found it on the street in front of

your place. My flattened napkin flexed & rode on your ass until

you slipped off your jeans & tossed them in a laundry basket.

This poem was never very good. It sacrificed meaning

to achieve intimacy. It sat like a Buddha, silent for 8 dark days

meditating on your footsteps, memorizing the cadence of

your breath, eavesdropping on phone calls & becoming

familiar with your voice.

This poem took a ride in your washing machine where it evolved

into an unreadable worry stoneā€”a hard white lump

with blue streaks.

This poem was torn to pieces in your dryer & it left flecks on your clothing.

When you buried your face in your favorite towel, bits of poetry

were waiting for you. Tiny remnants clung to your wet skin

& hid themselves in your magnificent hair.