while sitting in a bar
or was it a restaurant?
yes, and it was Italian
because he was eating the
linguini con vongole

Billy Collins
my favorite poet
you know, the poet laureate
said that death
is the magnetic north of poetry

he said this to me while he was
sipping his Campari and soda
at his table
and i was eating my sandwich
at my table
half a world away

and i took the opportunity to
disagree with him
rather vehemently

if you had asked me a number of
years ago, I would have
told you that fear 
is the magnetic north of poetry

or fast-forward a few years after that
and it would have been
desperation
and a few years after that
loneliness or isolation
or a year later, that winter
is the magnetic north of poetry

and i may find myself in agreement
with Mr. Collins a few years hence
maybe five or ten or twenty
who's to say?
i may tip my glass to him
and agree that death
is the magnetic north of poetry

but i can't help but believe that 
right here, right now
in this time and place
in this car
on this couch
in this bed
that the truth is that
love
love
love
is the magnetic north of poetry