December 12, 1977 Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

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Repetition (Repetition)

When words sloshed like water against the shore
(How often I've written those words before)
We could wade through the foam and find the core.
(Remember a stanza has lines that are four)

We could see through our problems again and again
(Did I write that last line, it doesn't make sense)
We could find quiet pleasure amidst the din.
(Din -Din. Where the hell did I get that word?)

A long time ago I had a dream.
(Who's writing this thing. Am I having a dream.)
And in that dream I drank some cream.
(Why did he end the line with dream anyway?)

The cream was you and I drank my fill
(This is ridiculous. He calls this poetry?)
Wait a second, who's that in the parentheses?
(Uh, oh. I'd better find a rhyme and get in key.)

Who is that, I asked?

(Silence)

Hmmm, won't answer huh?
Now where was I.
		Oh, yeah.

When words sloshed like water against the shore.
(How often (see the first stanza)
			he's written those words before.)
(Oh, good, I think I'll swim around in those words of his.
			God, this is repetitious.

1977

copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
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