Bad Poetry

Gone Home

This poem came about between Autumn 2003 and Winter of 2004. It was originally intended for my poetry class at Capital University, and got some good reactions from my prof and the other students. Since that moment, no one has understood it. Oh well, some poetry works for some people.

gone home?


I had a garden gnome in my garden,
because he was a garden gnome,
not a garage gnome or an attic gnome,
but a garden gnome.
He was “guardin’” the garden you could say,

or not say if you didn’t feel like it.
I guess it’s a personal choice.

You may believe all gnomes are equal,
But mine was made in China. I know.
He has it written on the bottom of his left foot.

Had it written… I should say. You see,
I had a garden gnome,
but not since he vanished from the corner,
the one with the carrots and cabbage,
where the rabbits gathered.

That is, if they do indeed “gather”
as if they actually plan something like that,

or, maybe they do.

I went out there once
and found only, “made in China,”
imprinted in the moist dirt,
and close to it, a hole.

Gnome sized,
or rather, rabbit sized.

I got a stick and stuck it in the hole.

It didn’t reach the bottom.

Of course it really wasn’t a big stick.

Funny.
For a moment,
I’d actually wondered:

Did he go back home?

posted by Andy W. Anderson, Ph.D Candidate @ 1:10 PM