Out The Secret
All poets only write one poem.
With scissors, knife, contortions,
they cut it into pieces,
some long, some short,
dividing truths and fictions,
creating a confession of singularities
around red wheel barrows.
Some poets leave out the best
forcing the reader to add lines
between the spaces.
This poem has taken over spaces near its end,
the empty spaces completing the
feeling of completeness in the
reader who does not know why.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
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