poetry is that rough and muddy sport through which I tackle words and force them into orderly and sometimes sensical rows
it is an art of romantic but unloved women who lock themselves in towers in castles in foreign lands to wait for their beloveds to save them
it is a science whereby alchemy creates of the dirtiest and plainest of elements gold from the friendly folks at hallmark
and, of course, the ghost of emotions past- the harsher the greater- which are exploited time and again for fame and recognized genius
... etc.
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