Anyone can be truthful about superficialities,
Pretending is not the truth,
True poetry is truth,
Truth is not popular, so poetry is not,
A poet throws all but truth in the cellar,
True poetry is truth,
Here in your poems you do what you dare not to do,
Problem was, all this is new,
All words are insufficient,
The poem exists before it is written,
Poems who are not written yet, or not written ever,
exists here,
The realm of the inarticulate,
The poem is a raid on the inarticulate,
Poets and tailors conceal their craft in their
craft,
“To express what is here”, she jabbed at my
heart,
Poems are lenses, mirrors, and X-ray machines,
Only in my poems do I realize I get to say exactly what I want.