I have been trying to put together a complete folder of my poems, and by rummaging around various piles of old papers, I got a small surprise—a poem that I had always thought to be lost—now found. This was a college-era poem, and I remember it was whipped by panelists of La Salle's creative writing workshop. I was quite ecstatic back then because the poet I much admire, Elsa Coscolluela, was the one who read this poem to the class.
I wish I had the original paper with their comments on it. They liked the poem on the whole, they appreciated the attempt at cutting, the letter-like appearance, the fluid tone. But I also remember distinctly, one panelist said it suffered from too many adjectives. Yes, one could be faulted for using too many of those. I thought about that comment then, I thought long and hard, I viewed the poem sideways, turned the words around countless times.
Finally, I made two tweaks, and left the poem to fend for itself. Am I guilty of neglect? You be the judge.