good crit for good crit.... thanks


Such tired work
glassing thoughts in fragile language
lacing and bracing ideas
with tactful precision
to make them clear

How many times
it shaped and flamed
in the maker’s mind
turned over, over again
before being polished and finished

Not enough

Always, given too soon
and rarely received

breathing hope
but it slips and trips the tongue
cracking up
making shards
that scratch

there lay,
hard work on the floor
illegible pieces of poetry

a stuttered silence

and nothing left to voice
because very small cuts
make it hard to explain
what it means
or meant

before it fell to mess
shattered on the floor

broken language