by Glen Martin Fitch
Before my birth
words showered down on me.
Before I spoke
I understood.
I tried. I called. I named.
I chatted thoughtlessly
engulfed in rapid discourse,
surging pride.
Before I read
I knew the picture book.
From letters
sounds and syllables arose,
till I was swept away
at every look,
immersed in verse
and dialogue and prose.
Since birth
(before?)
I've dreamt.
But I forgot the horror,
puzzle, bliss
before dawn's glow.
Yet after reading Jung
hot visions shot and spewed up
geyser-like from deep below
infusing my primed conscious mind
with awe, like Keller
at the spigot
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011