Ghosts

Some poets 
are fond of
conjuring
ghosts and specters

Their verses
tell of spirits 
that rise from the
long dead past 
to haunt our 
days, reminding 
us of our sins
and all the past
has taken away

ancient ghosts 
whose shadows 
follow us, ghosts
with claws that 
grab at us and 
hold us fast in 
their sickly 
embrace 

but I do not 
listen 
and I am not 
afraid
of such things

However, 
I do fear 
the landlord 
who would 
evict me 
from my room

and the bully boys
who beat me for 
a dollar 

and the policeman 
who vows 
he’ll protect me 
for two 

and the car 
salesman 
who sold 
me a lemon 

So I ask of the Poets:
Make ghosts
of such as these 
and I will recite 
your verses 
in the town square
and gladly buy your 
books.