You Discuss Me!
I finally froze
“These are the
kinds of poems
I’ve been trying
to make: light
on their feet,
fluttery-buttery
at the bowels,
look-feel-taste
fantastic.”
Then you froze
at the surface
of what looked,
at first, like an
endless icy wilderness,
never to make it into
the annals of the
experiential frieze.
