HOW TO WRITE A POEM

Begin by not beginning.
Don't bother about the title.
Not about dedication.
Or epigraphs.
Don't think of meaning.
Not about the body, 
nor the weight of a leaf on branch.
Write of the skin, 
its tender places,
the way it remembers,
the way it forgets.
Don't worry about form or structure.
Let the words spill 
like blood from a wound, 
like water from a faucet left running.
Don't try to make sense.
Let the words accumulate
like dust on a shelf, 
like snow on a winter's night.
And when you're done, 
don't read it back, 
don't try to make sense of it.
Let it sit, 
like a stone in a river, 
and wait.
Wait for the words to settle, 
like clay at the bottom of a lake, 
and then maybe, 
just maybe, 
you'll find
the poem 
you were trying to write,
looking back at you.
May be, just may be,
you'll find a poem pressing 
its silence in your eardrums, 
like a painful kiss.
That is,
a thing that's broken
a thing that's bruised-
Like a piece of fruit,
Like your heart.





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