How much better it seems now <br />than when it is finally done– <br />the unforgettable first line, <br />the cunning way the stanzas run. <br /> <br />The rhymes soft-spoken and suggestive <br />are barely audible at first, <br />an appetite not yet acknowledged <br />like the inkling of a thirst. <br /> <br />While gradually the form appears <br />as each line is coaxed aloud– <br />the architecture of a room <br />seen from the middle of a crowd. <br /> <br />The music that of common speech <br />but slanted so that each detail <br />sounds unexpected as a sharp <br />inserted in a simple scale. <br /> <br />No jumble box of imagery <br />dumped glumly in the reader's lap <br />or elegantly packaged junk <br />the unsuspecting must unwrap. <br /> <br />But words that could direct a friend <br />precisely to an unknown place, <br />those few unshakeable details <br />that no confusion can erase. <br /> <br />And the real subject left unspoken <br />but unmistakable to those <br />who don't expect a jungle parrot <br />in the black and white of prose. <br /> <br />How much better it seems now <br />than when it is finally written. <br />How hungrily one waits to feel <br />the bright lure seized, the old hook bitten.<br /><br />Dana Gioia<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-next-poem/
