mimi brown - Poem Whore

Pick me, she thought, as the poet's eyes scanned the audience.
I will listen as you play your dulcimer and recite
the words I wish I had written.

Choose me, she thought as the poet invited her up
for coffee and hooky on the school calendar.
I will buy you food to feed your skinny soul.

Have you opted for me? , she thought, as he handed
her the carefully written poem,
I will cherish every word as gold.

Pick me, Erato, I need you to be my poem whore for once.

mimi brown

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-whore/