< from THE IDEOGRAMS by matthew rohrer >

I hate how everyone thinks poems
are about sex.
They’re about supper.
Oh man, my grandfather exclaimed,
I stuffed myself like a hog.
They had every kind of food you could think of,
and the quality was really good.
That is the heart of my greatest poem.
Fine quality ingredients.
But the greatest work of art would be
to drive everywhere without maps.