INEXHAUSTIBLE
You start with sapwood between syntax and
Weeping willows, but words know the world
And heart is not so bad; and there are also
Gooseberries or the farm wall, it could
Make the plains revolve, the hours, a conflict,
There’s the man beside you in the métro, it’s inexhaustible
Work and then you must from time to time
Finish as this turn demands; you are still
Alone, dependent on those who read, finished
For this moment and this space, you can
Call it a poem, what’s left to say is already
Devouring the next page; there is the poetry of others,
That you like to read, recite, walks in the city
Or the woods, the first hour of the morning
Between gold and bile, and always grappling
With substance and history, a desire for poetry.
