Q: What do you see as the future of poetry?
Ever since I first noticed “my blood
setting out on its long journey beyond the skin”
I have been pondering that line.
I wrote it, sure, but
What the hell does it mean, you know?
Must be part of the dark speech of silence,
But it’s here, and so are we.
So I keep rephrasing the question
Hoping the answer might somehow change,
Or at least that, you know,
It might make sense