I wrote a poem
and this isn’t it
I wrote a poem
any minute now
I wrote it
any minute
How I wrote it
when it was written
I will show you
the poem
When you find it
buried in your yard
Beside the grave
of words left by
The poem’s
dreaming tongue
I wrote a poem
You will soon find it there
Wait for a while
and you will find it
see it
There
you will see
The poem
soon
Here it comes
it is coming
Like a lonely man
on a beach
devastated
By the poem
not finding him
The poem is waiting
and you will see it
Here
somewhere there
I wrote a poem
There
and
Here
And every eye
that reads this
Is
the poem
Is
the poem
Is
the poem