Frost's Acquainted with the Night (#11) shortens terza rima to fourteen lines and ends on a couplet. Kimiko Hahn (#32), writing about the glosa, cut the traditional ten-line stanzas because they thudded. Both took an old form and trimmed it to fit a modern ear instead of keeping it whole.

Exercise: pick a form with a long stanza, such as the ten-line glosa stanza or a chain of tercets. Write it once at full length, then once cut to the shortest version that still keeps its rhyme or return. Note which cut you made first.

Eve Grubin (#38) calls white space her favourite device and treats editing as cutting until silence does the saying. She points to a poem of hers that stops mid-sentence and leaves the gap. Set that beside Williams's wheelbarrow (#5): there the break splits a word, here the poem stops and the page finishes the thought.

Exercise: write a short poem of ten lines, then delete the last clause of the final sentence and leave the rest alone. Read it aloud and note what the reader now supplies.

O'Connor (#28) sets Kay Ryan's very short lines against Whitman's long ones: the length of the line sizes the subject. Williams's wheelbarrow poem (#5) is the same lesson at its smallest, where the break cuts a word in half.

Exercise: take one plain sentence about a small thing and break it into lines of two words. Then break the same sentence into one long line. Say aloud which one sounds like the thing.