When I begin to doubt whether poetry is necessary
it’s time to write a poem.
I tunnel into heaven with a pair of cornstarch chopsticks when
it’s time to write a poem.
When they’re advertising pre-civil war prices on guns and ammunition
it’s time to write a poem.
I melt into paradox like butter on a biscuit when
it’s time to write a poem.
When all my words are wet matches in an ice storm
it’s time to write a poem.
I grease fire the paper cages when
it’s time to write a poem.
When they are murdering poets in the street
it’s time to write a poem.
We chain ourselves to the masthead of love when
it’s time to write a poem.