What poem, the joy?
We hint at what we feel with words
But the true story is already elsewhere before we can say it-
What poem can tell the truth of what we are?
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How much suffering has there been in this universe?
How many billions of violent deaths?
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I do not say
What my Sadness is-
I only say
Sadness today need not be Sadness forever-
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IT IS POSSIBLE TO LIVE WITHOUT THINKING OF POETRY
It is possible to live without thinking of poetry-
It is possible to let the day go by
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Peace comes again
The world is not collapsing
Not yet
A new day is about to begin
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I AM DYING OF MY OWN OBSCURITY
I am dying of my own Obscurity
I am dying of my own Mediocrity
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Aren’t they too literal and too one- dimensional?
Where is their metaphor and their surprise?
Again then
I confess,
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POETRY IN OLD AGE
Poetry in old age
Is more than just Consolation-
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SHAKESPEARE, WHERE ARE YOU? (FOR HAROLD BLOOM)
Shakespeare, where are you?
You should be living at this hour.
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THIS POEM CAME TO ME
This poem came to me
After I had woken.
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