A poem should arise to ecstasy, somewhere between speech and song. Poetry is a voice of dissent against the waste of words and the mad plethora of print. Poetry is what exists between the lines. Poetry is made with the syllables of dreams. Poetry is a picture of Ma in her Woolworth bra looking out a window into a secret garden.
Poetry is an Arab carrying colored rugs and birdcages through the streets of a great metropolis.
A poem can be made of common household ingredients. It fits on a single page yet it can fill a world and fits in the pocket of a heart. Poetry is pillow-thought after intercourse. The poet is a street singer who rescues the alleycats of love. Poetry is the distillation of articulate animals calling to each other over a great gulf.