The Poem That Writes Itself

Its blood is black and the same can be said
of the rest of its features, creatures that
crawl like schooled and disciplined ranks of ants
to—quiet trope—quick as a clot, halt.

Still, the poem that writes itself is read
in redress, though we are deaf to the drat
and dread of poets’ dead-silent moments,
internal infernal bleating, mime’s vault

of time’s inert volcanos that then hide
their ashes, those erasures which were once
sparks, till the poem that won’t write itself

seems borne of its own accord to abide
beside heaven’s brethren, without an ounce
of onus as dust thrust upon the shelf. 

Among Karl Elder's honors are the 2012 Charles Latham Scholes Award from the Council of Wisconsin Writers; a Pushcart Prize; the Chad Walsh, Lorine Niedecker, and Lucien Stryk Awards; and two appearances in The Best American Poetry.