it just comes with

    I turned the computer on and sat down, realizing as it booted that I hadn't chosen a poet for the day. Knew I'd need to go back into the bedroom to get a book (that's where Poetry lives now). Dickinson? Lund? Keats? Bukowski? I've not a lot of time to decide--errands need running, I'm late already, goddamned taxes won't figure themselves. Before I could go on, though, the Bloglines notifier popped up: 4 threads. One was This Much Is True, The Cat's main blog. A post titled "Click." I read it, ending up lumpy-throated and teary-eyed, as I am wont to do when she writes that sort of thing. I knew then that 'just anything' wouldn't do for the poem of the day. I leaned back to ponder the issue...and it came to me, in a sort of minor 'clicklet'; the answer had been right under my nose, or rather in my ears, the whole time I'd been reading.
     Poetry isn't unreachable, overly-erudite, out-of-fashion five-pound phrases of meaninglessness. Poetry is thinking the same thing at the same time. Poetry is a great sandwich, or a cold beer on a hot day. Poetry is the kind of kiss that isn't just a kiss but a 'press of lips', a 'touch of tongue[s]', 'the sudden, inadvertent, /hilarious / clank of...teeth....' Poetry is taking a hundred pictures and finding two, when they're developed, that make your heart sing.
    Poetry is buying your own damned flowers.
    And so, for me, today, poetry is this:

It gets so hard sometime
It gets so hard sometimes with you

Whatever we are
We are
Whatever who we are (oh pretty baby)
Whatever we are
Whatever we are
We are
Whatever we are
Whatever we are
We are
Whatever who we are (oh pretty baby)
Whatever we are
Whatever we are
Whatever we are
We are
Whatever we are
Whatever

I tried to show you something you would understand
It's getting better all the time
But I never think you'd listen to a word I said
Whatever it is we are we are we are
And I said

I don't know where to start
Don't know where to stop
It gets so crazy all the time
But I just keep trying not to let ya down
Whatever it is we are we are we are
And I said
It gets so hard sometimes
We always change our minds
It gets so hard sometimes with you
love is there to find
But it gets so hard sometimes
It gets so hard sometimes with you
With you
Oh pretty baby
Oh pretty baby
Oh pretty baby you're the one
[Sugar Ray, "Whatever We Are", from In the Pursuit of Leisure]