poems happen in pictures.
painted by jazz singers.
poems happen on naked rooftops.
they happen while sweating on the Bedford Ave platform of the Manhattan-bound L.
poetry happens where tooth brushes splash.
poetry is picking up the trash
(and arranging it into neat little piles).
poetics happen in ten years.
and at the bottom of a bottle of 10 year old Laphroaig.
of course, all smoky nostalgia.
poetics happen on silent American mornings.
and loud Italian afternoons.
poems happen in twisted ankles and bruised knees.
poems happen when the two rub together on accident.
poems happen unexpectedly.
poems should be expected.