Tradition, like a well-made, famous poem, is everything.
You pontificate, you experiment, in vain.
Whatever is normal will have to do.
Desiring dead tradition is insane.
Tradition has nothing to do with desire.
Tradition is, or isn’t.
Christmas dinner on Mars needs fire.
Your battery will need a battery; the earth
cannot be pure or green.
The clock we all follow
is not the one everywhere seen.
A poem spoken out loud
is already visiting the past
cloud by cloud by cloud.