I usually haven’t really gotten poetry at all
Not any one poem
The whole thing in general
I am supposed to understand it
I am supposed to like it
There are a lot of things I was supposed to have.
If you can’t get from one end of a sentence to the other then FUCK! is the place where it broke down, trying to make sense, and then I guess if you keep writing anyway you fill up the FUCK! hole with lettuce, and that’s poetry
Or there is a poem about a bluebird
Or whatever
In which case, why? As in leg warmers and breakfast sausage that takes like fish – WHY? Why do that?
If you don’t know where to put commas, then express yourself in some other way.
And stay out of language.
I preferred, in retrospect, his craggy hands smokey smell to anything he said, but
If I hadn’t been too stupid for too long, I would have
Asked him the secret before we ran out of time:
How were you always so happy?
Like to see me?

"Like You'll Never See Me Again," Alicia Keys