The poet Robert Creeley is such an excellent minimalist that I almost get upset when he writes poems with somewhat conventional line lengths. Halfway through Just In Time: Poems 1984-1994 Creeley unleashes (maybe not the proper word for poems so spare and wry and minute, but whatever) a several-page-long sequence of what he calls "improvisations," which hit the Creeley sweet spot. Here are a few.
There's a big
It's got to be