This can be either a bridge or a wall (These walls must fall)

You say, I see no point to poetry because

it wraps itself around your mind and

keeps you from seeing.

It's so damn confusing.

I say,

well of course it's confusing you're

looking at it all wrong you're

not letting yourself understand you

can't see the forest--

all the damn trees are in your way.

And the truth is,

I don't get it either,

but I know it,

know that there is poetry in the space between the notes and

the black behind the white and

in the empty chair that sits there

like a wash of cold air,

waiting

for you to come back and tell me,

I don't understand but

I know and that

is enough.

Please listen.

Please plug your ears and shut off

all of the glowing lights,

all of the lights and sounds and

embrace the silence.

Without silence the noise means nothing.

Without the dark the light's a matter of course

(but you cling to it like a rare gem, don't you?

Of course.)

Well, I shout,

there cannot be logic with no poetry because

it means the logic is useless,

means there's nothing to build on and

there may not be logic in poetry, honey, but

there's no poetry in logic either.

And when my poem is over,

I prove myself right:

not a single word of logic is offered in defense.

Maybe you always knew better.