27. poetry knows
poetry wakes me up
as soon as the alarm goes off —
jumps on my head with
little clawed feet, coming
dangerously close to my eyes
i hit the snooze and
poetry lies on my chest, investing
each molecule of its hot body
with extra gravity
poetry wants me to wake up
and smell the coffee
get out of bed
go to the kitchen and
see the sunrise
paint the new leaves and grass
a divine orange and violet
with its warming breath
because poetry knows
i’ve been sleeping my life away
while the world turns
again and again
toward beauty
