WEBVTT

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This is the last poem from this.

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And then I'm just going
to briefly mention this,

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and then it's over.

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[LAUGHTER]

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So it looks like this.

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I'm not reading this page.

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I'm reading this page.

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"Purgatory is cruel to poets.

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A separate holding tank where
every melancholy phrase was

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invented.

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A lifetime resisting
adjusting to violence.

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Pity creatures with
the softest fur.

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The more we dance,
the better our poems.

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Trying our best to cinch it,
to hitch it to the jasmine

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ascension."