here do you turn - draft re draft

is this old or new?

Duffy: does it have to be old Or new? cant it be a form I am working on? shape, shape to things that come,a way to consider feelings of love, loss, hope, wished for loving, and love?
cant the poem itself be an experiment? often when you love someone, often under really difficult and hard circumstances you say things Indirectly __ so love is a poem of indirection.

The poem is what exactly?

No one is sure . I mean, we know whata simple poem is; somone asked me at a party last weekend to recite a poem and I did.
But

that is one thing, yet knowing what a poem is not the same as saying one, how a poem is not necessarily What it is.

So lets say the poems I write are always hidden THe surface is the cover. So its natural to ask what is under the cover.

thats a good question.________________________

Now as the person who writes it should I say what I think, or know is under the cover. Its my cover after all isnt it? but what if my cover is so deep I dont remember. what if i am lost and love has got me loster. what if it turns out I missed love.
or love misssed me.
what if I missed messages when I was supposed to get them. What does that mean,t o s ay I was supposed to get them?


What is supposed? I dont know, or I only some of the simplest part of the answers to these questions, so for me, I write the poems. Theres's someone I love.

yes, there is, and you know poems are usually written for the people we love.

And the fictions is perhaps my best way of loving and giving love, because it is not all worn down with the Me and the I.

So the question, is, the question is: Me? I ? what is that? is it something thatI ought to fictionalize?

Perhaps the greatest fiction is the I. THe I who loves, becuase when you love someone and really 'lose' yourself, at that moment, you are dying, dying of love, and love's dying, right? isn't that what the great poets were all writing?

And as well, I am not I when I write this. I is not I.

Example:

"Simple phrase of marry and rain it hearts the swollen womb
bests marriage to children of happy
swelling the untold ages of your near pages close rhyme
to the eye of intent closer still the mask the heart rainbow is this how it speaks

your name





Where do you turn when these words don't
come a letter dangling
in the air
marks your fate
tests your time and
making you wait"



where do you turn - draft re draft