Multiplicity like Unimaginable Complexity in Vision

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Because you feel that you own prophecy

Does not mean that the title and the deed

Are signed.  Pure poetry demands a fee

From fantasy but firstly from the seed

Of agony, reality — from facts.

An orchard does not flame from fancy, bare.

The frill of petals does not stem from tracts

Of your imagination only.  Stare

At harshness with the many lenses of

A spider’s several eyes before you write

Or take in life as filtered through the love

Of God or devils.  Use a poet’s sight.

  Use insect eyes with many lenses.  Then

    Pen lines about death’s lynched slack black-haired men.