the call
The briefing continues as the gentleman from the New York Times
expresses bafflement that a third stringer from Stuarts Draft,
Virginia who couldn’t hack it loading trucks, answering phone calls,
or spinning spandex is trying to write poetry for princes, essays
for theologians, and jams for sax players.
Not for princes, the poet corrects.
For princesses.
The circle stretches closed with
a quick buckle, and a shimmy,
of the conveyor.