Any Reason for Wanting Them

I walk uncertainly and allegorically,
unreally sentient.

An occasional poetic rhythm won’t disturb prose,
but an occasional prose rhythm makes poetry fall down.

I suppose everyone is a bit like that.

But because I think this,
and against my will,
it has also stopped setting for me.
An unfortunate one,
of course.

There were things I wanted,
but I was denied any reason for wanting them.

Right or wrong,
happy or sad,
be your own self.

—Alexander Search, POESIA