Poetry is what my poetry is seeking,
Not the throbbing of love that takes it all away,
Not difficult ideas difficult to say,
Not the clever being clever for an hour,
Not even the red dress, nor the laughter, nor the desert flower
Bravely wearing its yellow yellow under the yellow sun.
It is how they look away from her when she is speaking.
Poetry is what my poetry is seeking.
Poetry is what my poetry is seeking,
Not declarations that you are the only one,
You and I hidden, camping out in the tower,
The park below, great shadows spreading by the hour,
Not tears and tears raining from a head of clay,
Not shouts and certainties which make it run away.
It is how they look away from her when she is speaking.
Poetry is what my poetry is seeking.
