Her

(Overachieving with women, continued...)

I am fairly certain

she could craft a 

winning argument

to any proposition 

I might propose

while talking 

in her 

sleep.

Ken Owen   January 2020

Van Niddy Press

Excuse Me, Miss Dickinson

while at my

favorite book store

I told my friend the 

proprietor 

that he had things in the 

poetry section 

arranged in such a way 

that I had to move 

Emily Dickinson

to get to

Charles Bukowski.

the ironic imagery

was not lost on

me.

Bukowski

hiding behind

Dickinson,

the two of them

living next to each other 

in the only place

where that would be 

possible.

so I tried

imagining

them living next to each other 

in the same 

apartment complex,

each day

holed up in 

their rooms 

writing their observations

within and without,

her window shade open,

the glass clean and sparkling

as she wrote letters

to keep friends close and

visitors away,

and his dirty shade

tattered and closed

while he peered out only 

to see who rang his doorbell 

while he hid

from the landlord,

and each night

Miss Dickinson banging on 

the wall of her apartment

to tell Bukowski

to turn down his radio

as they both sat

alone

in self-imposed

seclusion.

Bukowski

living next door to

Dickinson.

only in the

poetry

section.

Ken Owen
Van Niddy Press   January 2020