No poet out there
worth his salt
will ever
type you the truth;
it's never—
go and stuff!
all these
little everyday epiphanies!
or that—
passion is actually no one's
responsibility!
He won't because
he knows
we ought,
first,
to be
courteous and cosmopolitan and kind—
Shored-
up
by our words
and not
the other way around.
And if words
ever aren't enough,
it's because
enough isn't all!
for being—the real
kind—is just so much
bigger!
than any thin
description of being feels.
