BEATNIK: A Poetry Collection

not a man

I was walking

down the asphalt

with a skip in

my step, then

stopped upon

seeing some large,

triangular,

rusted thing

sitting on the

ground before me.

it looked to be metal,

and with the desire to

be a big strong man I

kicked it with a little

more than average effort,

expecting to hear it

clank and scrape ground.

you can imagine

my disappointment

as it flew two

feet, clicking and

clanking, finally

revealing the rusted

thing to be weightless

wood.

I looked down

unfulfilled

and with a

blank stare.

I had never

experienced

anything so

emasculating.