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A Point
Words too many, creates an inflation-like balloon; sphere grown too large
where each word gets lost in the volume of words gone awry, orphaned,
where syllabicity becomes too complicatedly and comprehension
escapes the brain and flees into the night of obscurity and sadly
interest waxes and wanes and only pieces of the meaning
remain, distended and jumbled up and in surrealities
which makes one doubt whether the poem makes
sense of not, or if it is I, the reader lacking
the wit or common sense to see what
the writer meant or if there is a code
to all of this that I, the reader just
does not get, and, perhaps a
second read will clarify all
this and the light will
flood in and then
I, reader, will
and poet
reveal
the
point.
poem
by
Lonnie Hicks
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