Ars Poetica

A poem blinks not stare or care

As an indifferent art

Eccentric

As silver reflections of the theoric

Mosaic as the mind-created strand

Of lighted ideas which the beam has fringed--

A poem is best nothingness

As the loss of words

A poem is a Mimesis to madness

As the light pierces

Vanishing, as the light identifies

Prism by prism the ocean-green floors,

Vanishing, as the light from the bed reflects,

Bead by bead the effect--

A poem is a Mimesis of madness

As the pierced light

A poem is but an anomaly:

Not fitting

For every lapiz gave way to

A floating paper and an empty ink

For love

The eyelids close and open vaccuum the blink means--

A poem does not exist

But is.