A letter has to volunteer
To start a poem on a page,
And bid the other letters come
To stand with her upon her stage.
And then they must committees form
Of words – of nouns and verbs and such –
And meet in lines that break somewhere,
Unheeding of the space so much.
And then the lines must cast a vote
With operatic chorus ayes,
And hope that they are not the one
On which the Reader rolls her eyes.
And even if they pass the buck
Of Reader’s eyes from top to end,
They must do more between themselves
To be a worthy poem penned.
The only way’s to play and play
To different musics every day,
And come for all rehearsals dressed
In hopes of being the show today.