Two Views

I must do this.

because I was chosen

or because I chose it

or because there is no difference

between the two views.

I imagine someone finding my notebooks

and stamping me into history

as the next Emily Dickinson.

I also imagine maintenance workers

scooping the greatest product of 

my entire life into trash bags.

Either way, two views (and many words)

will eventually disintegrate.

So why do this? Why continue?

was I chosen? Did I just choose this?

did ‘Leaves of Grass’ fall on my infant head?

did I choke on alphabet soup at some point?

Is Sesame Street to blame?

or my high school English teacher?

either way:

Form and Meter

are putty in my hands

(maybe silly putty?)

Ah,

Two Views again.