 As of yet, I have not committed to a single plot; couldn’t bear to face the people on the pages, for all my lack of class and connections, whitened education. Give me poetry any day, I can flirt with a thought forever- or never, break lingual barrier- fa freddo! Sejuk keh? It’s cold, out here in the brief bubbles of poetry. But I cannot commit to the depth and breadth of prose - my well laid cases eventually move and dance, frantically spreading irrelevant emphasis on some theme or other.
Fragmented shards of writing are a hundred times more alluring. Snippets to another realm. Mise-en-scene. Haiku. A singular stanza that stands alone. Sweet poetry does not demand love or care- does not require formal training or networking. What was it Ms. Lorde said? “Of all the art forms, poetry is the most economical.” They give solace and voice to angst and noise
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