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11/11/10 - (1)
Word Curse
By the time I find the words that find me first, They've already assumed new disguises And have easily eluded my initial interpretations Of their appearance, behavior, denotations, implications, motives. They defy my getting to know them personally, Conspire to thwart my attempts to quantify, categorize, qualify them, Deny me access even to their most superficial visions.
Why I've persisted, so earnestly, over these frustrating decades, In isolating verbal congeries, on ruled notebook pages, As if affording them some sort of discrete differentiation, More than just arbitrary forms, shapes, orders, May speak to my poet's unrealistically optimistic belief In a word-cursed fate that mandates I keep seeking meaning From words that see, in me, no significant reason for being seen.
11/11/10 - (1)
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