“Michelangelo believed that the statue was waiting in the stone—it was the sculptor’s job to chip away the parts that didn’t belong. Maybe the same is true about poetry. If you look long enough at a sheet of words, you can find rhythms, patterns, brilliance. The reward? The poem within. It was waiting there for you all along.” – SoulPancake, pg. 38
The poem I unveiled in my Province article reminds me of a dystopic disaster.
