Poets have the world by the tail.
They show up as invited guests
at inaugurations and say some-

thing on really cold days that
people don’t understand but
which they think must be very

important, boding, in fact, har-
boring, too, or they wouldn’t
have been invited. They are

quoted from pulpits on high to
give a climactic seal of approval
to the preacher’s profundity. They

are quoted by philosophers who
think that everything really smart
was written in verse back in the

days of the Greeks and later on
by a few Romans. The poet’s
word, if ever so simple, evokes

a response that the poet is saying
something ever so deep and com-
plex. If ever so deep and complex

as to be beyond comprehension,
the response is that there is some-
thing elegantly simple going on

here. Poets have the world conned
as they give readings in the evening
at bookstores where a handful of

ever so insightful people, Gnostics
even, listen intently with knowing
smiles and an occasional muffled

chuckle or the “ahhh” of an “of course”
while the poets demur appreciatively.
Perhaps, it works both ways.