What can YOU say in six sentences?
Since poetry is sparks against darkness, conceived
in general in private, so easily snuffed by any
such a subjective random draft, made yet not made. Seek
art, I’ve found no solace; still, try to wait, go make a place,
it better not be here. Fear makes us hasty;
to comment too soon is like cursing the unborn,
…poems simply do not like locking up fledglings in a wooden prison
suit that forbids turning to see. But never mind
my personal limits, when we’ve seen sparks transform wood.
taste Only what results, what emerges—nothing else concerns us.