who can say we have no need of a poet?
how many times we need eat the same message
yet certainly it tastes better when fresh!
let me bake this fresh instance,
let me sing this fluttering green;
let me whirl the tunic of my heart round;
let me paint this golden sheen
let me make this message something you know,
something you recognize;
something that knocks on the door of your stillness
and rouses you into a poet too