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You asked where I get my ideas, and I’d just like to say,

and this is really more of a comment than an answer,

but I’ve been thinking a lot about brain surgery lately,

and I’d give my right brain for a box for to haul

my ideas a little less than halfway across the country

so that they could be unceremoniously dumped into the Pacific,

but—and here’s the rub—that’s also the part of me

that just loves to come home to a vase of azaleas

and to drop all my coins and my keys into a dumb little dish.

from NightingalelessnessFind more by Graham Foust at the library

Copyright © 2018 Graham Foust
Used with the permission of Flood Editions.

Published in Graham Foust Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

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