It has taken me too long of a time to address the issue of how to write good poetry. It seems my own expectations of myself, have been and were, too high. I always thought writing an effective sonnet or a villanelle was an achievement. Apparently, it is, but the chances of it getting published are slim to none - no matter how good it is. So that leaves me with the truth. Writing without the assistance of rhyme. I also see I need to stop reaching so high for images that have already been used before. The sun, the moon and the stars are all over overdone. Most writers of today have already silenced their existence and replaced them with visions of sexuality, personal confessions, and untapped forbidden fantasies. So I get it, in essence, we are all writing about fruits? Bananas. peaches, strawberries - describing the shelf life of ivy, and death is now back to tumble-weeding through the pages of a dusty western poem. Damn Clint for bringing that shit back. Instead of hiding in the shadows on a wild oak tree on a deserted road with help me sign by the high school, I need to stand on the side of the road sucking on a carrot with diced onions stuffed down my underwear? Good poetry. Good shit. How long has it taken?