So many blamed poems.

So many poems born
in a thought, and borne 
along shaping and crafting
towards song, and lost
in the moment between
sitting down 
to type. 

I blame computers. In the pen
-ink days, I was dynamite!
I caught everything, quick
whip-it-out jot on bird from
wing, sketching every feather's
fiber and weft to stiff stem
detail and flow. 

I would catch it all down.
But I'd rarely know why,
since I scarcely did jack
with that jot.

At least now
I can publish! The gets
and the got. Anyway,

Any poem gets lost
in the lack of computers
and such?

Was not memorable
enough, not just. Maybe
barely missed, but
it did not catch. So
that's
theirs. That
fault. That
poem.

That's-that.