No One Can Own a Poem

All things owned are slaves, all owners, thieves. All who cling to more than what they need to nourish life, to care for those entrusted to them, to give strength for work and good works and the making of music, art, poetry… are thieves.

It is the very Being of Things, whether living, or of nature, or of the mind, to resist slavery. Things owned will sooner or later drive their masters to greater and greater thievery, and to greater and greater violence.

What of those who would rob you? Would you let them take from you without resistance? Of course not. They are thieves… who take in order to own. Why would I surrender what is entrusted to my care to one who wanted to make it into a slave? The important thing—to abjure ‘owning,’ and take great care to know the limits of one’s needs.

No one can own a poem. What better reason to write them? Because they can't be owned, there can be no end to our need for them.

This is the way to be rich.