The Well

The echoes of Ginsberg rolled into the corner

Ferlinghetti laughed out loud

As tonight’s poets stretched



Seduced their audience into submission



And it was an undercurrent

In the depths of the well

The wellspring

Of creativity

Intellectual delight

Whatever the age or limitation

Whatever, what ever

(with special emphasis that only a teenager can provide)

Playing with words, with thoughts and emotions

People who gather

Or don’t

Together here in celebration of the muse

While disparate authors sing their tune

And tables roil

Tongues do what they do

As emotions spill forth

Through the night

At the well

Which isn’t doing so

Very well

That is

But hope springs eternal

At the well



David Trudel  © 2012



Filed under Poetry

4 responses to “The Well

  1. Very clever – especially the Sub Mission I thought. I heard Ginsberg read many times–he was terrific in person. Perhaps you saw him too. Ferlinghetti, once, I think – in NYC. A great time for poetry. Now too of course. k.

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