cleothedog

The Poem

                        It’s all in
                        the sound. A song.
                        Seldom a song. It should

                        be a song—made of
                        particulars, wasps,
                        a gentian—something
                        immediate, open

                        scissors, a lady’s
                        eyes—waking
                        centrifugal, centripetal

 
                        -William Carlos Williams

(Selected Poems, New Directions, edited by Charles Tomlinson)