How do you know when a poem is finished?
The best way I can describe it is that it is a visceral experience. As I put the finishing touches on a piece, there is an incredible build-up of tension, internally, and when I am done, I immediately push my laptop away like a supper dish I have had my fill of and feel fulfilled for a few minutes (two or three…tops). Then I move on to the next one. I, basically, give birth to them and instinctually push them out of the nest right after. I love them, but they often don’t feel like their mine anymore.