A poet rather than a criminal

Poetry, at its best,
like a life of crime,
is based on our mysterious variety
of forces.  

From upbringing to outlook,
this is a combination of internal and external forces;
comedy and tragedy,
music and...well, poetry.

This is a variety embodied by great comics
like Buster Keaton, Margaret Cho,
the movie “Blazing Saddles,”
the poems of Emily Dickinson
and the writing of Mark Twain.

My hope is that the eccentricity,
many-centeredness and hierarchical excellence
of those cultural products will provide a model
that a poetic person can be proud of.

When a single word speaks volumes...
A devastating couplet is every poet’s secret weapon;
just as a criminal has a knife or gun or crowbar.

Whether it’s grumbling about having to go to bed
with nothing but a Sylvia Plath anthology for warmth
or crooning sweet nothings-that-are-actually-dark-somethings,
words bring clarity and drama, opening a secret passage
to someone’s internal life
(just like a thief cracking open a safe).