This Blog
This blog is in progress. Procede with caution.
This blog is in progress. Procede with caution.
Sue’s Painting
The blue arch over fire’s horizon
blood and ocean
as complete as clouds allow
reaches Sue
and is affixed to the canvass
Is that smoke ascending
to the south, billowing purple?
And the parrots watching
are they yellow bibbed warriors
or simply her imagination, yours
and mine?
We lost a treasure of a poet on Wednesday. The depth and simplicity of Wislawa Symborska’s work reflect a great soul who has left us and who will be missed.
. TRUE LOVE True love. Is it normal, Placed on the same pedestal for no good reason, Look at the happy couple. It’s hard even to guess how far things might go True love. Is it really necessary? Let the people who never find true love Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die. |
No greater than the sum
of cancer’s brigade
advanced over the border
at 57th Street
to your skin
Smaller than the gem
on you thumb
pointing strontium
to flee from
(half-a-life)
Oh tiny
as the pretext for war
all gadgetry’s required
to inflate
A few piranha at your feet
One fine anopheles
The little tse tse
Pretty grains of wheat missing
Seeds
minute still
ripped from terraced hill
in deluge down to wayside ditch
and swelling up and splitting
Published Synaesthesia
“Those who cannot remember
the past are condemned to repeat it”
The back rooms were bus
as Napoleon started to fall
and new types of murder were devised
for the future and map change
In the sophisticated theater of the absurd
two hundred years later
a million lieutenants believed
they were holding golden apples
and the people didn’t how to read
aside from the engineers of evil
the 2nd or 3rd in command
with their pipeline to Puppet for a Day
So it was was repeated one more time!
with guffaws or with shrieks from the tortured
as the birds faded, the cicadas electrically buzzed
and a few stomachs gurgled, after the banquet
Published Durable Goods 39