Lazy Tides

I don't read enough poetry, it's
easy to tell that reading perhaps
enough is not quite right, what is
enough but what I meant was poetry
is not always echoing about my head
and, well, sometimes it hurts to be
without words and when broiling in
brain play some thoughts think clearer
in a stew of sounds and syllables
cast by clearer tongues than mine

- a vein of ore pulsing with old thoughts calcified by time and culled of unsustainable sentiment -

But perhaps, on reconsideration, I find
that I am not just not reading enough
poetry, but also not thinking enough of
my own poems and saying enough of silly
rhymes and where o where are the notebooks
of my youth and why am I afraid to be trite
and why don't I take the time to mine

- the tongued tangle of sound pressed through the air on each meeting of people and pressing of hands and each whistle and pop of that most fascinating human organ, the mouth -

it's not the mouth though, is it? it's something
like the voicebox, like, hmm, vibration and sound
and wasn't it a swede who found all the shapes to
make each vowel. I wonder if poems are allowed
links. It seems like that would have been a good
place for one