Why I Write

Why I Write

I write because I love to

because I love the environs where poems are found,
which are invariably beautiful, & hate the environs
where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly

because of all the television commercials, cocktail parties
& associated special posturing I thus escape

because in a world where most men seem to spend their lives
doing things they hate, my poetry writing is at once
an endless source of delight & an act of small rebellion

because poems do not lie or cheat
& cannot be bought or bribed or impressed by power,
but respond only to quietude & humility & endless patience

because I suspect that men are going along this way
for the last time, & I for one don’t want to waste the trip

because mercifully there are no telephones on poetry’s waters
because only in the woods can I find solitude without loneliness

because bourbon out of an old tin cup always tastes better out there
because maybe one day I will catch a mermaid

&, finally, not because I regard poetry writing
as being so terribly important but because I suspect
that so many of the other concerns of men
are equally unimportant ‒ & not nearly so much fun.

[Note: The above is a found poem perhaps proving that fishers are poets and poets fishers. Using a text by Robert Traver called Trout Magic (1960) I have simply substituted the words ‘poetry writing’ and ‘poems’ for the words ‘fish’, ‘fishing’ and ‘trout’ in the original.]

~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on June 29, 2012.

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