SF (June 17 1942 / Troy New York)

My Poems Have Become Disordered


My poems have become disordered-
They have lost their logic-
I do not know how to control them-
They break off in the middle
and go on in differerent directions
and cannot be brought back together
into a proper ending-

My poems have become disordered
as my mind
as my life
as all I do these days-

perhaps one day I tell myself
it will all be together again-

But for now
I go one way
my poems go another
and something in me
goes somewhere else
neither I nor my poetry know-

So that we are now perhaps
at the end of a poem
which not long ago
quietly and sadly
was only just begun.

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