Your Poem

Your Poem is very physical (oral) and really wants to be read aloud, as a performance poem. the final stranza is very illusive and abstract: in the port of storm we call commercial radiating plugged in seperation, fine darling pillars the growth of here after old man sit by the log cabin at night he would take a pee outside his window taking heed to nature's dream the owl would suddenly draw empty nothing but framed silence in togetherness our cameras freshly made eating potato dumplings... I aim human fresh under my wings, look to the sun to help you get by... each one of these lines is very interesting in a surrealist way, but are not connected and sounds like a peyote dream. But there is a concrete theme in the poem to that point, connecting with the daily chatter of Trumpism in a thoughtful and powerful way. I would seek to make more accessible that connection, in the last stanza. The reader can't get into your head, you have to craft it. IN MY OPINION, ALL THE IMPORTANT MEN HAVE RECEIVED A TRANSCENDENT MISSION. THEY HAVE ACTED AND CREATED INSPIRED BY DIVINE SPIRIT. THEIR MERIT HAS BEEN TO FOLLOW THE DIVINE INSPIRATION AND PERFORM THE PROGRAMMED OBJECTIVE. hail the dust cement the crown you do want me to be around slence the mere notion of a thread of glue what are we willing to do; shine through the pillows the brass of an English pill what are we to do each day is a pleasant place in which to stay feel amused by the river Nile still to know all the great while sudden pulses in the rear view mirror pay close attention to your near neighbor in light of the day encounter to play bring back the pulse as if to learn to understand love the smoke very clear... willingness to share love the pulse set out on its swing peeps do swing...