Poetry is theft - OpenTank O (O) ((O))

Poetry is
Theft:
I'm stealing
Right now.
I would
Pillage,
Sneak,
Rob,
Burgle,
Abscond
And how
Just to
Take a
Few lines
On a speedy
Joyride
'Till I've
Crashed in
Your ear,
Bon mot pun
Stuck inside.
More a fifth-
Floor man than
A White
Collar
Hack,
I'm climbing
Your prose
Filled escape:
Watch your
Back; and
While
Lifting the
Sash,
On your table
I lay
Something sweet,
Something sour,
Something born
Yesterday
Out of parts
Cobbled up
From the
Subconscious
Safe -- I have
Tucked more
Away than
You'd know.

rjw, 4/17/98