Poetry Informs

Poetry informs our very nature
it is woven into our existence
the saguaros of my youth —
in every word. I know some
who have chosen to give their
life to a company. Company
men they used to call them—
now just men.
I once had a boss with a
generator in his back-
yard. Sun draped mountain
ranges in every breath.
And here I choose poetry
everyday. What a cruel joke
the gods have played. Who
could wake up and go to work
and profit from corporate
spoils when the cormorant
flies over a rush-hour freeway
in the autumn twilight. Flies
across the glinting lake, and yet
no one has written it!


Poetry is like breathing; when attention is given an understanding comes up, seemingly, from nowhere.