Reading Other Poets

The ear
waits, alert
for the faulty phrase,

the one word
tipping
toward insincerity

or saccharine blush
in a bower
of pansies.

Mind
trims the “that”
that has no business here,

weeds the snarl
of ubiquitous,
blooming adverbs.

Heart
drowns
in minutiae.

Ego
reconfigures
Shakespeare

to pithy haiku.

A poem for dVerse Open Link Night