Child brideThe heart of this smaller fish,
knocked,
scrubbed clean,
that island never found.
I’m a believer in original sin
and the only change
and the only change –desire,
the waste of young lives.
In real life
a corrupt and greedy capitalist,
In real life
a corrupt and greedy capitalist,
you might say.
You might say
the icing on the decay,
gave
slant to the balance.
Slant to the balance.
You might say
the icing on the decay,
gave
slant to the balance.
Slant to the balance.
“Sinfully amusing.”
A brief liason
with that swoony style
of cocaine on a madam’s table.
After years spent overseas
intimate relationships with women,
suggestive
suggestive
suggestive
summertime explodes.
A brief liason
with that swoony style
of cocaine on a madam’s table.
After years spent overseas
intimate relationships with women,
suggestive
suggestive
suggestive
summertime explodes.
One of the tribe -
that island never found - smaller fish,
assembled the fragments.
You might say.
Transposed poetry from Sept. 11, 2009, TLS pages 18-19
that island never found - smaller fish,
assembled the fragments.
You might say.
Transposed poetry from Sept. 11, 2009, TLS pages 18-19
this is my response to the Friday challenge - I look forward to links or photos or poems from anyone who took it. I will post all and any!
5 comments:
Oops...I forgot. I meant to do a little kitchen arrangement (and also some baking), but wrote blog posts all weekend instead.
I am in awe of poets – they can say so much in so few words. Very nice.
TLS is perfect for this. gorgeous poem.
Libraries
rediscovered through
looking in Oceania
of everyday life
through arms and armour
looking in oceania
to the present
Travelling the ancient pathways
Through sky memory
the young archer attributed to the
obscure Guru
unerring voices deap within
workshops for modernity
expand their tonal palette.
horn!
a pleasing trumpet tone
the young archer
attributed to the present unerring
through landscapes
through spectrum
approaching abstraction through intersections
horn.
newyorker p22-23
Your site makes m,e aware what real poets do.
I love your snowy path too.
Make me want to frolic in the snow with Hoagy and another long long forggotten playmate ending up in one anothers arms again.
That's all I'll tell.
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