By: Mark Strand
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.
The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
And she walked with her hand in her dress.
The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.
Their eyeballs roll,
Their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.
She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
She screams.
I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.
I like this poem because it is a fun poem. In the beginning it is a mystery as to why the narrator is eating a poem, but by the end it is established that the narrator is actually a dog. This explains the distress of the librarian as the dog is chewing a poem. Also, the idea that the dog is enjoying the poem is, in a way, comical and represents the life of a dog at ease. Furthermore, it is like the dog likes poetry figuratively and physically.
