Forget the sensuous rhythms, the candlelit flows
The flame-drenched language
and the exaggerated escapades
Forget the masterful forms, the dreamy refrains
The count of lines and stanzas
and the elaborate rhyming schemes
Forget the scathing irony, the fanciful similes
The absolutely astonishing alliteration
and the mind-blowing metaphors
Forget all that glitter and just keep the gold
A poem isn’t a poem
Unless it’s about you
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Here’s also the first version of this poem, which I’ve been working on for too long.
A poem is not a poem
On the page
Unless it’s about you
Though it may feel and look
Like some poetry
It’s not the same
Every word decays
In my candlelit mind
Unless it’s about you
Often lines and stanzas
Go astray, too, when
A poem is not a poem
Because there is no prose
Or even rhyme
Unless it’s about you
And in my heart and
On the page
A poem is not a poem
Unless it’s about you
Benjamin Grossman 