die on the vine

what’s with all the paper?

she asked looking around

ideas half ideas I put down

some make it to poems

some just die on the vine

no one likes poetry

she said scornful then

like that was true for everybody

because she knew it to be true

yeah I write what I like

& if that passes the cringe test

that I can read it the next day

without too much shame

embarrassment the cringe

I keep them

maybe put them out

for people to like or not

& some well y’know

just die on the vine

& I knew right then

as she held no value

for me in the word

we’d go through the motions

but whatever we had would

well y’know

had died right there

on that vine