Poetry lets me say all the hard things under the guise of rhythm. If only we had this is real life (we do —it’s called texting/ email) I don’t look to be comforted when I read. I look for recognition. I see the pattern in order to break the pattern. I play with expectation because expectation is the enemy. Not so much the reflection but the depth of it. We wade in the image of ourselves as symbol to move past the symbol into real
life. We enter upon the real world with our eyes shut and our mouths crying.