“Why I Write Poems”







I write poems — and yes,
I do dare call them “poems” —
not because of some girl;

not because I’m inspired
by an idea or struck by
a profound realization; not

because of pain or misery
or anything like that. No,
I write poems because

of my purple sweater. There’s
nothing like it — my purple
sweater. It is the most beautiful

sweater in the world, in my opinion.
The best there is and the best
there ever will be. I love how

it chokes my arms and wrists.
I love the feel of thick cotton
and wool. I adore its pockets

and I love dipping my hands
into them. Let me read one poem,
just one poem, in front of a small

audience, inside a small bookshop,
with yellow lights over my head and
a microphone on a stand before me,

while wearing my purple sweater
and I shall be the happiest, the most
inspired poet you will ever see.


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