Second Time Around

I can’t think of a reason to rewrite;

Once upon a poem is quite enough

For me.  I rarely look with pleasure,

So rewriting, copying out, editing

Are all exercises in self-flagellation,

And if that is my penchant, whipping,

I would rather it be by an honest

Lash, not my mean-spirited toad

Of an interior critic, or you.

I can’t think of many things improved

By repetition or editing.  Sometimes,

The poems ends up better, but I do not.

Most things are not as good, as fresh,

As lethal the second time around,

Including me.  Take me once, and resist

The impulse to say “again”.  Believe me,

The mystery of that first uncertain scrying

Is seldom equalled by the clarified vision.

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Published in: on September 27, 2012 at 5:19 pm  Leave a Comment  
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