With some proper punctuation, sometimes a missing subject and a verb or two, I feel that some of what I read in poems written lately just are short stories lacking the aforementioned.
Or else, as in the current trend in short stories, they must be so obtuse and full of meaning so well hidden that they are meaningless unless you dig deep within your psyche to find some sort of reason or relation to make you go, “Aha!” but then try to explain your version to someone else…
I foresee another new wave of change in literature and art–one that is more in keeping with society’s lifestyle. In other words, work that can be understood at least by the second reading, and art that takes no more than five minutes to figure out. We’re just too g.d. busy for this form, and with so much out there that is both published and will never be but should, I don’t see why we should be wasting time reading the same thing four times.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology