I'm Not There

Don't look for me on a library shelf

In amongst the cobwebs and dust

I'm not there

If ever there would be a newspaper clipping

It would not be of my work

But of my death

Bring me the holy word

Bring back the bereaved life

Bring me the literary sword

Take away this mental strife

I have lost the secret of love

The lyricism of the bard

I have no poetical gift to strain

Don't look for me in the pantheon of the greats

Don't look for me in the romance of the constricted sentence

I am everything and nothing

I am the wind in the dewey grass

The tear of the broken down employee of the homeless

Don't look for me at all because I'm not there