What was prose?
– It was grandmother’s recipe book spilling devourable esoterica
– It was the poem stung with the immediacy to explain
– It was trying to speak of the spirit of the forest seeking endless play
– It was putting on paper the ensuing death of wonder
– It was the knot at the beginning and unlying of the knotted tie
What is prose?
– It is the pause before verse cuts its teeth on the veracity of the evidence of words
– It is an infought war of erudition between bankers and highbrows
– It is prepost-modern but not prepost-erous enough for armchair whimsy
– It is the wrangling at the tryst of what-happens, when-do-we-know and whatchamacallit
– It is the scramble for the poem, the want of it, the heat of knowing the want.