the other guy said
and damned if I knew
I could tell him about sitting
I could tell him about waiting
I could tell him about that peculiar state
and what it feels like to me
but not how to get there
I’ve never known
no matter how often I go there
I told him about reading
an unknown number of poets
sometimes all they wrote
more often all I found
I told him about listening
to anyone and everyone
even those whose speaking
makes me sick
I told him about reading
what people who know
say about writing poems
I think I quoted
a saying or two
but I warned him
all that is preparation
like the hours writing
from someone else’s prompt
or exercise
in the end I felt helpless
and far less than wise
as well as I know
the words choose the poet
not the other way ‘round
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