What is the job of a poet?
To lie beautifully.
Kind of.
I mean, no one really talks like that.
Do you know how long it takes to get the rhythm right?
Sometimes countless hours,
spent formulating thoughts.
Pushing the dust of fragmented ideas into a mold
consisting of 26 letters.
And then put out into the world with the sincere hope
that the person who reads it will understand the intention
or maybe have something to add
and that idea that was once just gaseous
is in many minds, as a liquid ironclad.
And he sits in a dark room at a desk
going on midnight with work in the morning
trying like hell to create something
working out in his own heart the meaning of his thoughts
using definitions that he knows to shape them into clumps
and
put
them
on
the
screen
for you to see and hopefully enjoy
the way the poem looks and seems and makes you feel
as though you met him through his words.