LYRIC REFORM by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG

I don't care to convince anybody of anything.
I don't expect to change a single person
from what he is to what he might be,
were I he.
That'd toss an insult
to whatever it was made him
and made me.
I've enough of a job, as it is, of my own
trying to edit myself.
With the aid and frustration
of what was given me to attempt it.
Whatever it was made me must know
it takes a lot of time even to think this out.
A passionate concentration of energies
to produce a single act of any sort.
A fearless impact of silent tides,
and only a shell for the effort.
With a thin uncertain echo
scarce an ear can find the way to.
Most of the love gone to waste.
Whatever it was
left me alone from the start
with what was given me.
To start me, attempt me, lose me,
find me, lose me, be me.
I wish folk would leave that alone.
And not care to convince me of anything.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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