hey don’t want poems to rhyme these days
Thinking poetic narrative’s profounder
But words that rhyme have their ways
To plunge to an inside that’s far yonder.

There are depths where sense can make a sense
Not of logic but of a beat and caress—
Where words do more than just mean stuff
Where they dance, and sing, and undress.

So a sonnet’s a great middle way
To have your cake and to eat it
Structure holds its sway
But violating it a bit can beat it.

Poetic words fill our chest, not our mind.
Love jumps to first place, leaving reason behind.