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What is poetry, really? Is it tossing random words aroundLike confetti in your mindAnd watching as they float lazily downTo land on a page arranged in a strange sentence such as "Variety paints secretly senile flora" Which will forever be a conundrum To high school English studentsAssigned to write interpretative essays On such a profound statement? Or is poetry all rigidity and structureWhere one must keep in step with iambic pentameter In order to grind out Petrachan sonnets with lines like"The world is changing even as we speakAnd I believe the outlook is quite bleak" Complete with requisite rhyme and perhaps a Sprinkling of spontaneous yet sparkling alliteration? -from "Made for Eternity"