M.O.: if it sounds right, it must be (or, there’s always room for grace)

These rules baffle me,

makes grammar seem so grammar-

ly, while habitat

 

poetic should not

be stoic-ly honed, watch me

analysing some

 

prosetry there with

crossed toes, and spaces filling

not where they should be.

 

I’d rather splash ’round

before diving into this

language embrace of,

 

of finest syntax

enveloping me, bathing

astonish-ed-ly,

 

your words of divine

crafting, filing pieces of

your soul. Absorbing,

 

inspired, what I am

trying to say, is that my

heart has grateful eyes.