Poetry Wednesdays

If you ride Seattle Transit, you've probably noticed the poetry featured near the ceilings of the inside of the buses. I have noticed that often times this poetry is quite good, and it's almost always better when it's written by a young person. Are young people the only ones truly capable of writing poetry without sounding pretentious or like a drug addled hippie? I would argue that yes, they probably are. For whatever reason, when adults write poetry it sounds like they're trying way too hard. A lot of times you can tell they're trying way too hard to sound like they're not trying that hard. Either way it produces poetry that makes you want to vomit on the seat in front of you. By this logic, the best poets would be those that are extremely young, but just barely old enough to be literate. I'm talking really young. Like four and five-year-olds, or in the case of Augustine Tangas, three-year-olds.
My girlfriend and I had the fortune of being exposed to some of Augustine's work the other day as we rode the 11 from Madison Park to Downtown. Hers was by far the best poem on the bus, and here it is:

A Dream that Really Really Happened
by Augustine Tangas

A dream that really really happened,
And the mother and father didn't know,
And they loved their little little girls,
And they wanted to see the dream,
But they didn't see it,
Because it already happened,
And they were poor.

.....(silence).......

Bravo, August, Bravo. I shall keep a close eye on your work as you begin the ever-difficult transition from "toddler" to "woman."

-Boosh Clown

Song of the Day: Chattahoochee by Alan Jackson