Poem On Poet

by Philip Vassallo

It's easy
I tell you
sit down
all night
the room aglow
in candlelight
the cup stained
with coffee
drunk hours ago

you know
the genesis
of this room:
the wool
that made the rug
the powder
that made the walls
the pulp
that made the pad
the ore
that made the pen

the space
you filled
with stuff
with what
begins all poems

now write,
Poet,
the poem.

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