Poetry

Where would we be without poetry?
All kinds of it, pretty, mad,
completely nonsensical. Where
would we be? If a person couldn't
read out loud a free-verse poem
he's been working on for months
to occasional applause of real-
life listeners, I ask you, where
exactly would we be? If we
couldn't boo and hiss and
then laugh again like fools.
If we couldn't co-mingle
with riff-raff and those
not to be trusted. If we
never had the chance to
see clearly, without any
doubts at all, the difference
between good and bad.
We would be infants,
unable to fend for ourselves
in poetry's all-encompassing
absence. We would be lost.
We would eternally ache for
better ways to get ourselves
across.

(2007)