POEM

To think something is divine.

To think something is divine,

is divine. But to think something

through, from image to mind,

mined and displayed on the

page, with a graceless

brain’s tactility,

grabbing at rhymes

and stretching its tentacles

towards similes, is the injustice

of mishmash

philosophy.

If I needed to tell

you I loved you,

surely I could have

done so without this

circus, without the hunch-

backed letters, or the faux

warmth of this old

red-and-bird-

yellow tent.