I cannot create within the confines
of space predefined, by line
and placement of word upon page.

I need the entire of the landscape
without the fence of form and fit,
meter and rhyme, or lack thereof.

Miles of space for paint of picture
from mind to reader, to create a view
that I perceive to pass in verse.

From me to them, assorted colors of
shape and experience, jagged and rough
sometimes biting and slicing, who cares.

The cube you wish for me to fill
is too small, too small, and I'm
already bursting with thought
that could not be captured, caged
and placed perfect on page.

WhiteRose 11/10/02