I remember hearing Joe Brainard read his poem
at the Ear Inn when I was eight or nine years old.
I remember that of all the poets I had heard read
up to that point
Joe was not only the best, but the only one who
was any good at all.
I remember Joe reading “I remember putting socks
down my pants
to make it look like I had more,” and wondering if
he was serious.
I remember going home not too long after the reading
and putting socks
down my own pants to see what I would look like
if I “had more.”
I remember feeling embarrassed, and thinking I
didn’t want anyone
I knew seeing me have more.
I remember taking the socks out and thinking
poets should keep
their ideas to themselves.