Excuses of a Plagiarist

^{—after David Jones, a.k.a. David Sumner, plagiarized an elegy
            Neal Bowers wrote for his father}

^{—with apologies to a few poets}

            I

After I read your poem,
those Styrofoam cups floated
out of the first stanza
and followed me everywhere.
Like sheets of paper,
they said, Fill me,
they said, One
is like the other.

            II

Your poem happened to be
underneath my paper
which happened to be
tracing paper. This is what I mean by
"accident of process."

            III

Will it make you feel better
if I change my name
to Neal Bowers?

            IV

You're not the only one
who had a father.

            V

What did I know, what did I know
of laws and copyright offices?

            VI

Think of it as my slant
on your moving truth.

            VII

Mimicry is flattery, and theft
worship, oh Great One.

            VIII

Forgive me
it was delectable
so touching
so touchable

            IX

You're not the only poet
I like.

            X

They sat me at a keyboard
and I typed. All day, weeks, a year
I typed. Some kind of Hamlet
and then, our poem.

            XI

It may not be true,
but it sure is beautiful.
That’s all I know.

            XII

An email said
if I didn’t steal your poem
all living things
would die.

            XIII

This is really a case
of free speech, not to mention
the pistol in my pocket.