NEMEROV 2014 #12
MAGIC IN THE WEB
There’s magic in the web a sonnet weaves
As measured out in five iambic feet,
An implement by which the poet conceives
Unthought-of subject matter, beat by beat.
Ironically, the more confined he feels,
The more imagination’s then compelled
To wrack his brain until the right word steals
Into his view, and a new notion’s spelled.
The less one starts with matter preconceived,
The more the likelihood of being surprised
By something unexpectedly retrieved
Or, in the nick of time, just realized.
This magic carpet sonnet flies to lands
Unknown, by means no science understands.