What poetry? Any poetry that makes your hair stand up along your arms. Don’t force yourself too hard. Take it easy. Over the years you may catch up to, move even with, and pass T. S. Eliot on your way to other pastures. You say you don’t understand Dylan Thomas? Yes, but your ganglion does, and your secret wits, and all your unborn children. Read him, as you can read a horse with your eyes, set free and charging over an endless green meadow on a windy day.
While I’m off chasing my own dreams
Sailing around the world
Please know that I’m yours to keep
yeah he’s cute but does he want to be ur vacuum cleaner
and will you let him be your coffee pot?
a moment of silence for all those cool ideas you had when you were falling asleep that you totally thought you’d remember but tragically didn’t in the morning.