Before You Begin (Poem 365)

to kill a poem 

before you begin 

decide: a masterpiece 

an epic important problem 

of intention and meaning 

decide: an elegant haiku 

to be quoted down 

the centuries

assign: an emotion 

tell people: what you plan 

to write about 

tell yourself: this 

is a poem 

insist on the form 

before the content    squeeze 

the cow into the carton

be inflexible about looking 

at the world through a haze 

of intimate wisdom 

be too flexible about 

your nonfat milk turning

walk through water, missing 

the exit feeling    guilty that 

the wish of doom

scratches against 

the toothy sketchbook paper 

on the table

(c) 2014, by Hannah Six