The Garden of the Thieves
For years I have wanted to write a poem called The Garden of the Thieves. The title turns up in old notebooks with asterisks Surrounding it and arrows pointing to it, and Notes telling me to write it, write it, but
It never got written until now because I never knew where the garden was, or who The thieves were, so the naked title lay there Between sheets of paper that seethed with reason And grand ideas, until one night I actually dreamed
Of the garden where I played as a child, and it was invaded by thieves Who stole the Great Poem from me, the one we all know Never gets written, and I saw the title as they Whisked it away, and yes, it was beyond a doubt
The Garden of the Thieves, written by Anonymous who was my favourite poet And who I thought was a Byzantine king. I have been Pondering over this for quite some time, and thought I'd better get it all down before the night falls.
