naomi shihab | the art of disappearing

7 12 2007

nnye.jpg

Poetry Dispatch No. 185 | August 20, 2007

The Art of Disappearing by Naomi Shihab

When they say Don’t I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say why?

It’s not that you don’t love them anymore.
You’re trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven’t seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don’t start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems. © The Eighth Mountain Press








Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 692 other followers