These poetry events
They are like fly paper
So I try to not get too attached
To any idea
That might change my mind
About what poetry is
For me
You know
The clickety clip
In the in-to-nation
The...breathy pause
The gasp for air as the climax arrives
I hate that
Because it is inauthentic for me
But I am glad that it works
For you
We know
When we hear something that fits
Just right
In between our ears
Like fuzzy dynamite
Making us shutter
For a second
Getting us engrossed in the puzzle
That poetry can be
And then lost like cotton flower husk
Into the mulchy top
Only to be reabsorbed
At some later date, time and place
Always reminding me
That life is made up of moments
And poetry can be
Just that
A string of perfect moments
Tied together with a taut string
The juicy beads of the piece:
Where we connect
The string: where we wander off for a while
Some people think
That a good poem
A really good poem
Is a beautiful collection of beads
Displayed on a velvet cushion
With no string
Some people think
That a string with one bead
Makes a perfectly good necklace
They are both right
And both wrong
Depending on the date, time and place
This much we should know is true
For us
--
5.12.11
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