I admit it. I picked this poem because I like licorice. But it's a good one.
Licorice
by Daniel Hales
If it's been over ten years since you last tried
black licorice, you may now love it.
If you come across a bus stop in mid-December
someone may have written i heart you with
their finger on the window's condensation.
It may be fresh enough you can tell
where she pressed her forefinger down
hardest and whether or not she wore gloves.
It may be that what you think is love
Is no more so than a clump of pink insulation
hanging strangely in a trashed storefront
Also: Paper Licorice Art
Poetry Friday is hosted by Becky's Book Reviews today.
I really hate licorice, and have since I was a kid, but I love the optimism -- the either/or nature of this poem: You might not hate it anymore. What you think is love might be something else. You might be alone forever AND ever. Think about it. Know it. Deal with it, and what is. Or don't.
ReplyDeleteWhoa.
ReplyDeleteVery cool poem. And it has been over ten years since I last tried licorice (which I've never liked). Maybe it's time . . .
ReplyDeleteI LOVE black licorice and I now LOVE my new word: exponentiate.
ReplyDeleteThe amount of time I spend at work will soon exponentiate.
The number of years since my high school graduation has begun to exponentiate.
I still don't like licorice. But these lines I both like and fear:
ReplyDeleteIt may be you are actually as alone as you feel,
that it will only exponentiate.
That this is what scared you so much in the darkness.
This poem really scares me. Maybe the internet is all my imagination and you guys aren't really here with me? My love is a butchered ham hanging in a storefront?
ReplyDeleteSara! What have you done? Where did you find this poem? It's too powerful. The either/or-ness TadMack noted terrifies me.
ReplyDeleteAnd now I have to read it again.
Eisha, I think it was Liz that introduced me to Verse Daily, but I could be wrong.
ReplyDeleteAnd hey! how about all this licorice love/hate? Kind of like the great cilantro divide, huh?