“Poetry is as visual as are painting
and the cinema.” – Charles Simic
If you are lucky, you will find yourself reading poems by Jim Harrison or Ted Kooser instead of watching television. In them, you will see fat cacti retaining visions on the landscape of time, and, if you are wise, you will embrace one, plucked through like Frida Kahlo’s deer, wounded but stepping back before stepping back in – a dog-legged dance of stabbed precision – you’ll need to decide each time whether to jab the damn spines in the same holes or cut new ones. Then you realize, because you are lucky and wise and time is who knows, that, wait, this is how you should handle people.