Unlike the dry, can lay out anywhere, even in the sun or under artificial light.
Wet poems remain true to themselves.
Unlike the dry, wet poems take on even the sun, even the sun in all its single mindedness. Who only sits around and waits. Finally he gives up, Groping towards the sink to wash his hands of heavy reading. Blinking eye tricks can measure the haphazard synchronization of a corpse to its shadow. Behind the filmed glaze of a dead man's staring eyes are grave secrets.