Poetry has many inspections
each line like thought re-touched.
We frown at fingered collections
of nouns and other stuff.
There are troublesome inflections
and bleeding wrung-out verbs,
the wandering explications
of rhymes the metre serves.
There are stand alone conjunctions
in hope that it amazes
where
in solitude it functions
in contrived, schematic, phrases.

Words and image  Tommy Carroll