like a new notebook or a good clean wind,
summer songs can’t make a dream
exist if it doesn’t want, and
happy poems should not be
items on to-do lists.
he winked at me in fall sunlight
from under his fedora.
[insert standard plot-twist-slash-
voicechange
here]
even happy poems should
have a little mystery.
or a kiss.
i am, after all, not
an iceberg. but i have been
too long among novelists
& nighttime heartache, and
this isn’t a true story.
is it?
definitely a kiss.
on a streetcorner.
[someone dies here]
just
here.
the tenth muse 
I especially like the inserts, voice changes and someone dies.
what?! a comment? thanks, n.k. . see ya manyana.
I love how you juxtapose the images of the ephemeral (the poem, the love song) with the tangible (the kiss, the streetcorner). No, you are definitely NOT the iceberg- too much warm, pulsating life in your soul for that. Exquisite poem, my friend.
“exquisite,” eh? damn, Mosk. blushing over here. 🙂
Yes, exquisite, you blushing rose, you. 🙂
ha, love the creativity in your story telling…your inserts are fun but with a point…and you cant make it happen as you can in a story, you cant plan when or what, it happens and we live within the greater story….
thanks, brian. little bit of experimenting here. glad there was a sense of lightheartedness about it on some level.
Love the kiss on a street corner . …love the images.
lotta kisses on streetcorners going on around here lately, it seems… 🙂 thanks, ayala.
Interesting play on styles and purpose. Thanx
thank you, Sabio. welcome here any time.
Haha, fun play and great tags. Poetry is an act of imagination not an eyewitness report, I’m so with you on this.
oh! i’m so glad someone noticed the tags 🙂 thanks for dropping in, Anna.