Teaching Poetry

Teaching Poetry

He says he wants for once to write it right,
to find the perfect puzzle piece that completes
the incompleteness of his thoughts.

                                                            “It’s a feat,”
I tell him, “a wondrous work of words to write
a poem worthy of the muse; to find
the lines that adequately scratch your itch
to speak, to find the slipper that fits
the dancing feet that whirl around your mind.

I motion him to my desk and point along
the wall to the wastebasket piled high
with crumpled sheets.

                                    “If you want to say it right,”
I tell him, “you'll need to learn to write it wrong.”


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