If I could keep one poem in my pocket for the rest of my life, it would be this one:
This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
--William Carlos Williams

Today is poem in your pocket day so here it goes:

why is why is why is...
weighted questions of sovereignty
inquest of life, draped over eyes
related to the immoral severity
lines to cross, and paychecks to rise

Statement of poetics

I actually did it. I wrote my own statement of poetics. Can it measure up to Samuel Coleridge's ingenious "best words" or Frank O'Hara's profound discovery of Personism? Probably not. Can it embody the cleverness of my head being ripped off Dickinson. Not a chance. Will it ever match up to William Carlos Williams "no ideas but in things?" Never. but it's mine. all mine. and no one can take that away from me.