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Sunday, December 07, 2008

Your Sunday Poem

Furnace
by Ted Kooser from "Sure Signs, new and selected poems," available at your local bookstore.

There's a click like a piece of chalk
tappng a blackboard, and the furnace
starts thinking: Now, just where was I?
It's always the same stale thought
turned over and over: Got to
get something to eat. Nothing else
ever enters its mind. After all,
it's a very old furnace,
and all of its friends have moved on.

2 comments:

Shark Inlet said...

The Writer's Almanac offers convincing evidence that poetry ought to be read aloud.

Churadogs said...

If you're aural, it's music. If you're visual, it's an abstract painting on the page. Either way,it's marvelous. Experienceing it both ways just rounds out the experience -- Music AND painting.