we are born poets
before we try
a lisp
a limp
laughed at in school
an overbite

something wrong
else not exactly right
compels us
so some try
to put it right

through words
at kitchen sink
‘neath gas station bulbs
fluorescent bright
at home
in love and in bed
when older
late at night

letters bright

watch grow these
columns of words
something a bit off
exactly right

the world
snarls and rears
else purrs and tells
but neither is
quite right

all of us know it
are poets
recite it
washing dishes
before we die