Poetry Makes Nothing Happen, Thankfully.

If not for anything else, this unimposing stance of poetry alone makes it extremely relevant today. I like the way poetry distances itself – like disobedient strands of hair – from the constant urges of our world to make things happen. It seems to have no inbuilt need to convince, to transform, to convert, to turn around, to entertain, to earn or to win over. Even in the uppercase, poetry carries within it an inherent lowercaseness; a being there without intruding; a standing aside sans the aloofness; an indulgent smile that resides in the intense scream. This immeasurable nature of poetry, though often a haven for mediocrity, is also its greatest strength. The very fact that editors distrust poetry and publishers feel like strangers caught in thick evening mist when confronted by poetry is possible proof that there is something innately true about it.