Any Poem
Any poem
worth its salt
must have
the sea in it
and at least
a pinch
of sweet flesh,
and it probably
needs a couple
of stray dogs
and some green
jazz, and
those huge rocks
behind the house
we thought
were ordinary
until they surfaced
in our sleep,
and a poem needs
love, but simple,
like coarse mustard
on muenster cheese,
and some light,
like the first cell
that began
our bodies,
and some darkness,
like the center
of bread
before it begins
to rise,
and two strong legs
willing to run off
without us.
James Tipton lives in Chapala, in the tropical mountains of southern Mexico, where he writes poetry and enjoys village life. His work is widely published, including credits in The Nation, South Dakota Review, Southern Humanities Review, The Greensboro Review, Esquire, FIELD, International Poetry Review, Christian Science Monitor, Mountain Gazette, American Literary Review, El Ojo del Lago, Lake Chapala Review, Living at Lake Chapala, and Mexico Connect. His most recent collection of poems, Letters from a Stranger(Conundrum Press, 1998) , with a Foreword by Isabel Allende won the 1999 Colorado Book Award in Poetry.