Love, ah Love, when your slipknot's drawn, One can but say, "Farewell, good sense." - Marianne Moore

What I write could only be called poetry because there is no other category to put it.

"An Egyptian Pulled Glass Bottle In The Shape Of A Fish"

Here we have thirst
and patience, from the first,
and art, as in a wave held up for us to see
in its essential perpendicularity;

Not brittle but
intense — the spectrum, that
spectacular and humble animal the fish,
whose scales turn aside the sun's sword with their polish.

Precision, economy of statement, logic employed to ends that are disinterested ... liberate the imagination.