Clau Palacios

I'm a poem. I think in stutters repeating consonants and vowel sounds to match a pre-ordained rhythm that might not be mine. People (often) speak of the poet — but does anyone ever speak of me? I float about your conscience, I flout your grammar, your “rules” of convention, your punctuation, your so-called train of thought — but I am here, and I wonder — has anyone ever written a poem about being a poem? I wonder what it’s like to be free like that.