“The streets are littered with poetry…” from a poem by Jack Evans read at Jarrod’s Coffee, Tea and Art in Mesa AZ

Pages crunch under our feet, fly up in our faces,
rejected poems reborn, exacting revenge,
advancing like an army in tattered rags,
like a pack of broken, animated dolls,
crying from empty sockets, dragging limbs.

In the park, poems are woven onto trees,
wound around trunks, festooning
branches, the best poetry blossoming,
bearing fruit, floating like dandelion fluff,
to land, leaving seeds to root in fertile soil.

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