ASPIRING TO POETRY

not a code
to be deciphered
nor the first
idea
nor the first
words
that come to mind
nor actually formed
but somehow
spilled
as though
accidentally
but not

so...contrived

but not contrived

and not dancing
around it
nor pointing
to it
nor simply
saying it
but still
somehow

simply

saying it

or letting it
say itself

unfolding it
or

unfurling it

but by some
natural process
seemingly
as easy as a heart
beating

yet difficult

controlled

like the mystics
of india
slowing it almost
to a stop
and certain
masters
we've read

and we're
just fishing here,
hoping,
trying
to catch
it
to find
that
perfect
chord
to make
her
feel it
like we
felt it
when we
read that

shit

just words
like any

and goddamn

how'd
he
do that?
write that

like that

so i'd know
somehow
exactly
what he meant?