I speak for all the poems here br in thanking the management br for removing the ads br that were draining off our blood. br br For example, when a poet br used the phrase 'grapes of wrath', br the words appeared in blue br and a click took the reader br off, off, to an ad for a video, br an anger management program — br who knows what? br br I'm a poem, I don't go off reading ads, br I'm complete in myself br br but suddenly, well how would it feel br if your veins, the blue blood vessels br inside you, were siphoned off somewhere? br Would you like that? br br We poems didn't like it either. br We like to think br we have integrity. br br I thought I was going crazy, br couldn't hold a thought. br br Now it's back to how it was: br I can stand quietly, br like a tree in an ancient grove, br br until someone comes to contemplate me, br walking all around me in a leisurely way br while standing in my embracing shade.