The Bell that Does Not Toll
Inventor of the telephone
Refused one for his house;
Bell treasured silent time alone
And quiet with his spouse.
Twain got a phone, but shut it tight
Behind a closet door,
Where it could clang to its delight,
But bother him no more.
I took a cue from these wise men—
Considered words ring true—
And traded cell phone for a pen.
Write. I’ll write back to you.
Joe’s Well-Wrought Urn
When grass sprouts white and snow falls green,
When honey flows instead of spleen,
When nation fat goes nation lean,
When war, not sex, gets deemed obscene,
When pubs serve milk and ban poteen,
When Hollywood swigs Hippocrene,
When reason trumps the selfish gene,
When dawn floods Hopper’s Nighthawks scene,
Though Joe’s brew smells like Mr. Clean,
We’ll still be running on caffeine.
Dan Campion has contributed verse to Light since its founding. He is author of Peter De Vries and Surrealism, coeditor of Walt Whitman: The Measure of His Song, and contributor of poetry to many magazines, including Able Muse, After Hours, Measure, The Midwest Quarterly, The North American Review, Parody, Rolling Stone, and Shenandoah. He works as a writer and editor in Iowa City, Iowa.