The Rules of Poetry

There are rules for these things
the dancing of words.
They establish a rhythm
often best heard
by reading aloud.

The same with the rhyme,
after setting the pace,
the next rhyme should land
in just the right place
the precedent set.

This works just fine
with words that are tame
but what does one do
when wild words or strange
refuse to be held?

They burst forth unbidden
breaking all of the rules.
No rhyme and no rhythm
they insist, “We’re not fools,”
and deftly escape.

We’ve bled and will speak.
We shout as joy should.
Your rules cannot hold us,
you imagined they could?
Embarrassed, I smile.

The battle is over
though barely begun.
Throw out the dang rules,
toss out everyone.
I’m giving up.

And startled the pen
on spasming toes
bows to the wild words,
“Hmm. Let’s call it prose.”
and continues to write.