I suppose most of us have known poems are strange ever since we were infants being put to bed with lullabies like “Rock-a-bye baby,” or were children being taught prayers that begin “Our Father who art in Heaven….” The questions soon arose: What idiot put that cradle in a tree? And what’s art got to do with my Daddy-God? But this kind of strangeness we got used to. And later, at some point in school, we asked or were made to ask again: What is a poem?