Who says that concrete isn't inspiring?

A poem by Jim Lafond-Lewis.

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Every organization or loose association of people ought to have its poet laureate.

I would like to be poet laureate of the Pervious Concrete Association.
I would meet regularly with the members and the witch doctor.
We would all feel safe and uplifted
or grounded together.
We would mingle in the lobby before meetings.
I would dream enough for all of us,
especially during discussions
of the Maine Department of Transportation's RFPs.
I would draw attention to the sight and sound of ME DOT RFP
and the doctor would conjure the rumble a small airplane would make as it
rolled across a pervious runway in the rain.
Where once it would have been grounded, bogged down in mud,
my poetry will rise off the concrete and fly across Penobscot Bay!
 
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To read more of Jim's poems go to his page:
 
A Wrinkled Man - Un Hombre Arrugado