Why do I not forget?
The words are maps.
You think she read it somewhere-
a thimbleful of sound,
not a cruel song, no, no not cruel at all. This song
(I could read) and carefully
the squat pen rests; snug as a gun
without care for time or density. O world
and the language obscene
my first. You might ask why. Here’s why. Poetry.
[Sources: Louise Gluck, Adrienne Rich, Hannah Gamble, Sara Eliza Johnson, Brigit Pegeen Kelly, Elizabeth Bishop, Seamus Heany, Marcus Wicker, Sylvia Plath, Carol Ann Duffy]