And when I say poem

I mean this thing
 
I want to write and no other
 
You will not be so clever
 
as to resurrect the feathered
 
the tatty wings of a costumed
 
angel in my dining room
 
tatty spatial realm
 
room where I exist and look at things and eat them
 
and float nine inches above the floor
 
and no one else need know
 
and no other poet
 
will do
 
 
 
The poet will do
 
what the poet will do and mime
 
or maim the poet
 
meme—in fancy
 
venue or classroom or focus
 
group the wings of the poet
 
relax and warm and shed and oracular
 
shit out the window in a pile by the side of the road
 
and the commitment of the poet
 
to engage, subvert, refract, or remand
 
is safe in my vagina at last where it belongs.
 

Copyright Credit: Rebecca Wolff, "And When I Say Poem" from One Morning—.  Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Wolff.  Reprinted by permission of the author and Wave Books.
 
Source: One Morning— (Wave Books, 2015)