Poetry (n.) is words answering only to other words, a pure event with no message you can carry away.
Poetry (n.) is language in revolt against its own laws, the laws that force it to churn out meaning.
Poetry (n.) is words that bypass meaning, each summoning the next in a catastrophe of charm.
Poetry (n.) is to be taken, like thought, in its literalness, not its truth, which merely makes things worse.
Poetry (n.) is a space where gods metamorphose within us, and we are the theatre where their forces meet.
Poetry (n.) coaxes nothingness up out of the power of signs, which is radical illusion, the very reverse of shrugging at the real.