The pulse of language alters its rhythms in the way as the subject changes marshalling yards. Both loose and entangled, poetry is manifold. Poetry is high tech. The simultaneous art of overhanging and centring. One must hit the bull on invisible targets.
Poetic art is stochastic.
It compels to aim accurately facing the indeterminate. One should work together both limit and limitlessness. Poetry is the art of fighting with appearances. A close combat indeed against the alder of its capacity to break up and recombine what is given. But also leaving them out under the shower.