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      CommentAuthorTrenchcoat
    • CommentTimeMar 19th 2018
     
    Poetry and prose are always
    Getting paired off, like one explains the
    Place of the other and people ask
    "Why would you call that a poem?"
    But they sit on opposite sides of the
    Room and stare at each other in blank
    Misunderstanding of purpose
    I can wrestle prose onto the page or screen
    Type until inspiration breaks through the stalling
    But poetry slips away unless the ink flows
    Without a blink and the sun dapples my toes
    Just so. Poetry hides too well for me to dig it up
    But then it bursts out and says "now!"
    And I must hurry to sit and write, moving
    Pieces in my brain in between, because it is now
    Or never, the moment of poetry fine balanced
    On the ledge and if I push too hard it will all turn
    To prose.