I asked fellow poets to give me their “failed” or abandoned poems to work on.
To set this timber straight:
The eyelid of art shuts slowly
a tear keeps the orb from getting stuck
no punch lines. Genius loves conspiracy.
Mondrian straightens out his branches,
saying, “You’ve got to dream the lie
before you live it,” then ducks
to avoid an oncoming sparrow.
“You’ve got to twist it to get it straight.”
He’s leaving all the lines but none
of the edges. Still the tree gets darker
at night so take your opportunity.
“Why date my works?” he keeps on thinking,
apropos of nothing. …