A sentence's diagram, to risk sounding trite
Is a blueprint for everything poets can write.
A poet who enters mundane grammar class
May take from a professor an old treasure map.
You see and think “what if boredom could kill?”
But I see all the optional slots I could fill
With adverbial phrases of any construction
Or adjectives acting with primeval suction
To draw readers deeper into the verse, where
I hit them with prepositional phrases. There,
In language's depths, the sentence labyrinth,
The roughly-mapped chaos beneath the blueprints,
Half cavern, half roach motel, I find such rhymes
As to feed my addiction through most trying times.
Is a blueprint for everything poets can write.
A poet who enters mundane grammar class
May take from a professor an old treasure map.
You see and think “what if boredom could kill?”
But I see all the optional slots I could fill
With adverbial phrases of any construction
Or adjectives acting with primeval suction
To draw readers deeper into the verse, where
I hit them with prepositional phrases. There,
In language's depths, the sentence labyrinth,
The roughly-mapped chaos beneath the blueprints,
Half cavern, half roach motel, I find such rhymes
As to feed my addiction through most trying times.
No comments:
Post a Comment