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It' still April...

 Naïveté


Your writing naive poetry, she said,

I think, or maybe you're naive to think

you're writing poetry at all, or

you're naive to think that what you write is poetry.


What poetry is, you're not writing

I think she critiqued finally.

Precious little encouragement there

except she did use the word poetry.


But of course poetry cannot be naive

naive poetry is the mother of all oxymorons

just ask whoever said that poetry

is the metaphoric spark one step ahead

of any decoding mechanism.


Writing poetry then is discovering metaphors that can't be decoded?

Metaphorically speaking Navajo?


Whatever the hell it is, it awakens me

to scribble fragmented strings of letters

born of turbulent convoluted dreams

that in the light of day may be Navajo

but may not be naive.

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