WEBVTT

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The Secret of Poetry.

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First two lines
have always struck

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me as funny within this poem.

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They remind me of
something I read

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somewhere which is
incredibly typical of myself

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because I suffer from insomnia.

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When I think I can't
sleep, when I sleep.

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When I can't sleep, I think.

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Catch-22.

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The Secret of Poetry.

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When I was lonely,
I thought of death.

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When I thought of
death, I was lonely.

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I suppose this
era will continue.

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I shall enter each gray
morning delighted by frost

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which is death and the trees
that stand alone and mist.

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When I met my
wife, I was lonely.

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Our child in her body is lonely.

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I suppose this era
will go on and on.

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Mornings, I kiss my
wife's cold lips.

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Nights, her body
dripping with mist.

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This is the era that fascinates.

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I suppose you are secretly
lonely, thinking of death,

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thinking of love.

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I'd like please to
leave in your cell

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just one cold flower
whose beauty would

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leave you inconsolable all day.

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The secret of poetry is cruelty.

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