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The Limits of Writing

by Edward Ahern

Being a man of low and indiscriminate taste,
there’s little I wouldn’t do or haven’t done.

I’ve eaten chicken claws and whole tiny birds,
seal flippers and cod tongues and sea slugs,
dog and squirrel, all cow parts and possibly rat.

I’ve read literary and prurient porn,
comics and classics and kitsch,
doggerel and the divine in three languages.

Shot geese and turkeys, pheasants and pigeons,
hooked salmon and trout, stripers and blues,
not sure about man, but not ruling it out.

I’ve lied and cheated, bribed and swindled
seduced and traduced, ignored and abandoned
mostly in the name of a greater good.

But I will not, ever, never, on threat to my soul
write greetings for Hallmark cards.

Copyright © 2020 by Edward Ahern

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