Poetry carries the weight of
ten thoughts,
     nine feelings,
        eight emotions,
                seven sins,
                     six thoughts,
                         five complaints,
                            four heartaches,
                                three joys,
                                  two heavy eyes,
                                       one pouring soul.

Poetry fights her way
through layers
and layers of jargon,
through depths
of useless words just floating,
skimming the surface of nothing.
she claws her way
through overgrown shambles
and tangles
of unnecessary parts of speech.

Poetry slashes her way
through tumbling creepers
falling from broken terraces.
she drives away unimportant thoughts
from fertile fields of words.

i see Poetry survive against all odds -
against joy - that sweet, sweet burden.
against rationale - a double edged sword
against doubt - a ghoulish green monster

i see Poetry survive.
no, rejuvenate.

and then i know
why poetry takes a feminine pronoun.