He asked me what it’s like to write
a really good poem and I began
but couldn’t assemble the words
because we were in the office.
His eyebrows rose as if to say
it must be awesome if suddenly
the poet should became speechless.
You should write a poem about me
he said and returned to his display
of numbers arrayed in columns and rows
as they often are for a Data Analyst.
So this is for Phillip, lost in numbers
as I am in words, both frequently seized
by the mysteries buried in each.
Poet’s Notes ####
If you feel strongly about this poem, leave a comment below!
(I won’t delete rude comments, I’ll just reuse them in a poem — with attribution. ;-))
The image of the initial draft can be seen here: