Who isn’t a poet?
Nowadays we have opened the act and the actor to writing,
to spiel their proverbial guts about any and everything hoping to be creative, original, innovative and worthy of our listening attention.
By this definition a truck driver is a poet, alone in cab-thoughts running through his brain while he watches both the curves on the pavement, and the other drivers he despises and considers idiots. In his cab (he maybe owns or leases) he is hired to haul tractor the corporate’s trailer.
“Just do it!” the boss man says, the one who doesn’t give a damn unless delivery is late.
He delivers. He is a small figure of thoughts embalmed in a large world full of the countless other vehicles.
Does his wife listen to him when he gets home?
Does he leave his trail of thoughts littered along beside the Interstate highway debris?
Does he write them down?
His poetry rolls slick off the tires, onto the tar, somewhere in Ohio, or Wyoming.
What to do with his life lived, a life no one else could read as it unravels from the dotted
Interstate lines, but I promise you he is a poet. He’s got plenty of thoughts despite the fumes of the diesel fuel. His poems spill to hot pavement and like oil
dissipate.
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 