Old Poetry

This past week I began sending out litters of poetry to a broad range of journals and magazines.  Poetry is a bit like herding fleas to me . . . when I do want to round up some poems for submission, it helps to do it in bunches so I can see the substance of the thing.

Primarily I looked back over my 2012 "poetic journal" and sifted out the best.  I even found a few poems I had forgotten about . . . like this one entitled "Skin".

I like it. A kind of clever light verse I think.  And I can say that, particularly since I don't recall writing it (though it is dated September 11).

Skin

Some wear it thin
And others thick.
Pigs give it when
The kickers kick.

Some are taken in
Or fleeced and then
Flayed like men
Who sin.

But there is deep
And tanned ten
And shorn sheep
In Dad's den.

And now and then
We win by teeth
Of fall asleep
In what lies beneath.