Poetry is sometimes too much with us,
\nalways tangling underfoot. Like kudzu
\nor the parachuting dandelion fluff
\nwe superstitiously disperse\u00a0with\u00a0puffs,
\npoetry goes wild, turns weed. Its niche
\nbecomes a whole ecology.<\/p>\n
O Peoples of the Earth, hear me on this! Poetry is sometimes too much with us, always tangling underfoot. Like kudzu or the parachuting dandelion fluff we superstitiously disperse\u00a0with\u00a0puffs, poetry goes wild, turns weed. Its niche becomes a whole ecology. O Peoples of the Earth, hear me on this! Poetry clings to everything. We can\u2019t hack back its proliferating\u00a0nodes, trap its encapsulated seeds,\u00a0which survive … <\/p>\n
\nPoetry clings to everything. We can\u2019t
\nhack back its proliferating\u00a0nodes, trap
\nits encapsulated seeds,\u00a0which survive
\nthe seasons,\u00a0germinate\u00a0in pavement cracks,
\non distant rooftop tar. Poetry thrives
\noff CO2 <\/sup>and every breath released.
\nWe must live with the change it brings.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"