Poetry Friday: Tabatha Wrote Me a Poem

Tabatha Yeatts knows how much I love Billy Collins.

Tabatha got my name in the Summer Poem Swap last year and wrote me a poem — a glorious poem — about a discussion with Imaginary Billy Collins.

Imaginary Billy Collins! 

Tabatha gets me.

Thank you, Tabatha, for getting me. Thank you for making me cry a little bit when I read this beautiful piece, when I realized you wrote it for me, that it's mine, and I get to keep this gem and sit down with Imaginary Billy (and you) any time I want to.

Imaginary Billy and Real Tabatha are treasures.

Imaginary Billy and I Discuss the Founding Documents

for Karen

by Tabatha Yeatts 

Did you know that Timothy Matlack

is the clerk who transcribed

the Declaration of Independence?

I ask Imaginary Billy Collins,

who is reading the paper

on the sofa across from me.

Imaginary Billy is polite enough

to put down his newspaper

and he looks at me over his glasses,

He did a lovely job of it,

he says. The title is especially attractive,

with all those flourishes.

I know, I say. People had better

handwriting then. Billy hmms in agreement

and goes back to his paper. I wait

until he finishes his article and say,

Did you know that every year 

more than a million people come to

the National Archives Building to see it?

Billy raises an eyebrow and says,

I didn't know, but I'm not surprised.

I see it every year, in my dreams,

but not everyone has my imagination.

I'm sitting there thinking about

the million and one people who see it every year

as Billy returns to his reading.

I am nervous about interrupting him again

but I do anyway.

Did you know that the Declaration

and the Bill of Rights and the Constitution

are sealed in titanium casement

filled with argon gas?

And they are kept 22 feet underground

when they're not on display?

And the ink is measured every day

to make sure it isn't fading?

Oh, I do that, Billy says,

finally putting his newspaper down. 

With my copy, the one I visit.

Except it's not 22 feet underground

exactly. I keep it in 22 places. 

I keep the Preamble in my mouth,

and I tucked the first amendment

into my fingers so it's there while I'm writing.

I put some of the other amendments

in my shoes so I can figure out

where I'm going. I tend to ramble, 

you know.

I'm not sure whether it is more polite

to agree with him or disagree

so I make a noncommittal head bobble,

which he seems to approve of.

Where do you keep it?

he asks me.

I feel like it's been camping out

in my tear ducts, I say,

wishing I had a better answer.

But he nods, like that's a 

fine answer anyway. 

As long as the ink isn't fading, he says.

It's not, I say. 

~~~~~~~~~~

We're Going to Walden for the roundup this week. Thanks for hosting, Tara!