02-27-2013, 11:54 PM
Keep it out of the poem, or out of the critique? The truth is that your poems are so full of flowers and trees and grass and skies and birds and sunlight and other pleasant things that I can't sit still. It's a complex situation. I get high and drunk off of flowers and bright colors; my mind goes primitive and I get too excited and out of sorts to talk about rhythm and rhyme. That's exactly how it is. Even the snow you write about has charm, though I don't like snow very much.
Even a poem like this where those things aren't in the forefront, I can still feel it. That's what happens.
Even a poem like this where those things aren't in the forefront, I can still feel it. That's what happens.