The Crooked Mirror

<p><em style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>The Crooked Mirror </em><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>is a collection of verse in assorted styles and colors.</span></p><p></p><p><em>From the Poet:</em></p><p></p><p>So here's what I think.</p><p>A poem is a linguistic unity. It has no narrative flow. It has no time. It has no tempo no pauses. It is the opposite of music. It coalesces in the mind as the last element is read or heard; only then does it exist like a quantum state collapsing into reality from the interaction of a reader.</p><p>The text of a poem is a single word broken up into elements separated by lines and spaces. It is a delivery mechanism and a flawed one. But it's what we have. And it is precious. Because a poem is as close as we can get to truth given the undeveloped state of our languages. And minds for that matter.</p><p>A few in this book may qualify as poems.</p><p>Any would be cause for celebration.</p><p>Poetry is where we're going.</p><p>At least I hope so.</p>