MY LAST POEM
I’m allowed just one more poem.
They’re standing behind me.
This is that poem.
It’s got to be an ordinary poem,
not an extraordinary poem,
and it doesn’t have to be all that long a poem
or a special poem for this particular occasion:
something serious or something immortal.
Not something other than otherwise.
Beginning’s the most difficult bit (the prompting).
It’s got to be finished within a certain period.
And by finished they also mean finished!
But it’s nowhere near finished yet.
It’s not even halfway finished.
Not even halfway finished... they know that one.
They pull my chair backwards.