Andrew Apel Poems

There is a kind of poetry I like
That those who write poetic manifestos do not write
It forces me to find a clue
And bids me understand the few
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What love, what is this God-Man,
Descending into hell
To steal his own back from that thief
Who did not wish them well?
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Is there a metaphor for simile? Is it like a simile? Your love is like a red, red resurrection; A resurrection is a resurrection is a resurrection. Synchronicity. A simile is like a symmetry is like a kind of tree that grows meaning fruit by planting word seedlings that come from a different tree, stolen from someone else's windowsill, the Yggdrasil can pollinate at will a parallel, and bend it to suit its purposes, clothing with nuance an alien object tailored to flesh out an aspect like a foundling thought in basket that might have been abandoned, like a simile, in otherwise colorless discourse
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