Like

We like

what we like.

There is no way to know

what we like till

we see it. So

surprise us. Could be April

and not sweet rain but snow

blowing down wet soot

through the bare

branches. Make us

laugh. Inspire us

to such feelings as seem

appropriate to the matter.

We don’t care whether it’s cut

into lines or comes in

blocks of prose.

Make us cry.