To a Poet
Ah, Poet – you serve up language
in tiny bite-sized pieces
Like a primped and garnished
entrée of nouveau cuisine.
But can the experiences and emotions
that splat across our lives
Be properly piped onto a plate
sauced and orange peeled, just so?
Instead, with your words drag me
inside your skull to peer out
Objective made subjective
to feel, taste, touch, me within you.
And then and only then, my Poet,
your work will earn from me
The coveted cordon bleu.