The Essentials of Poetry

Lacking definitions for glasses without bottoms, we call them telescopes or megaphones. But still they crawl down our throats like silver centipedes because we close our mouths open at just the right time and we spit up poems. So who cleans up the order? Leaving it there long enough, it will go away or like a dog we tongue it back up-- coo at its sweetness, faces blank as Big Chief tablets-- holding out these empty glasses for more, wishing for the long, lasting sip of stars.