Something Suggesting A Poem

The dictionary suggests that a poem is something 
suggesting a poem. If I were a poem, would I suggest
myself? I do already do this. Pick me. The solipsism
disturbs my linear thoughts, and I find myself wanting
to want to want to want to want to want to want to want
to want the poem I have already almost written. So I become
all subjunctive, embracing how things have been, carrying on
as if I was a poem this whole time. Did I suggest myself before
I became myself? Could it have been someone else who is also
a poem who made the suggestion that I become a poem and 
also myself? Is this question even a question, if it only serves
to question itself? These are the circular lives of lives: what 
does life mean, asks life about itself, by itself, asked in a hurry, 
as it happens to end. A life suggests a life. A death is something
suggesting a death. It seems lifelike to suggest life, but who
am I to do so, I am only alive, was only alive when I wrote
this, but now, I may very well be suggestionless. Is a poet
something suggesting a poet? If a poet suggests a poet, does
that poet even need to write poetry? Even need to have
written poetry? Or can the mere suggestion become
the thing, the identity, the nomenclature? I cannot
suggest knowing.