At night, as I pass on the street.

[inc4ndescent]

A young man sits alone at a table for 4
facing the entrance to the Great Wall of China Buffet. 
His dark hair has the loose curls of a mother's favorite son;
he is old enough to have grown into his body
but young enough for a fresh & open face. 
His gaze is dropped to somewhere just below
the middle of the table--there, in front of his plate,
--his

Comments

[inc4ndescent]

I know. I don't break lines in order to somehow magically transform prose into a poem; I just do it because I believe it matches the rhythm of the text better. Plus, on the computer screen lines can stretch on & on... which seems wrong for the spirit of what I wrote, because I said such simple, short things. In my journal where the lines are necessarily shorter, it's written without line breaks.

But the thing is... I have no idea what distinguishes poetry from prose. I feel like open verse made everything ridiculously fuzzy. You commented on that once--on what you think constitutes poetry (vs. prose) but--what was it?

[unoriginal_me]

communication=
what best implicates the desired scenario.

fuck webster- that's all me.