Poet's Sleep, 1989, by Chang Hong Ahn
New writer on the block
looked for rooms to let
the inspiration percolate.
Blank wall, blank page
hand cramped around dry pen.
The only view:
the empty hopes and bones
of tenants past.
Lay down your head
to sleep, perchance to dream up
a gripping tale
full of wit and pathos
and signifying everything
to hordes of eager readers.
On the off chance,
neighbors with glass hearts
jostle for position,
prepare to cast their stones.
