A Bouquet You Can Eat

 "Fountain"

what stalking

the wild asparagus finally brings us to

a gustatorial spring.

The Shell Game

The lowly snail takes only his house with him

And has everything he needs;

The lord of the land takes everything else

And finds he has nothing

He needs.

Aubade

Aye to this

Thin waning crescent

In early morning sky,

Gone by

The morrow, which gleaming

Sickle is to glean

Which mourned-for eye?

Cuatro Poemas en Prosa (Four Prose Poems)

Once again my thanks to poet and translator Mario Domínguez Parra for translating and helping place four of my prose poems (Sentences, 1976) in the literary supplement El Perseguidor of the newspaper Diario de Avisos, Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Canary Islands.

Need to the Nth Power

Love,

I have to tell you something—

It is so overpowering

Nothing dares

Come through.

"Friends, You Drank Some Darkness"

"Revelation"

Dear friends

Who are in need,

Do not be so

Easily carried away

By the promising

Lyre of darkness—

Though the sun

May not always come out

When you need it,

When it does,

It always does

What is needed.

NB: Tomas Tranströmer’s poem “Elegy”—from which Bly got the title for his translations of Swedish poetry (Martinson, Ekelöf, and Tranströmer)—is as follows:

ELEGY

I open the first door.

It is a large sunlit room.

A heavy car passes outside

and makes the china quiver.

I open door number two.

Friends! You drank some darkness

and became visible.

Door number three. A narrow hotel room.

View on an alley.

One lamppost shines on the asphalt.

Experience, its beautiful slag.

Placebo

Treat yourself if you must,

Even indulging yourself

To surfeit but remember

This bitter pill—

Poetry cures nothing.

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Poetry and the Mother Lode

Like any prospector hot on prosperity’s trail,

I claim my fair share of digging for nuggets—

But you know what?

No fool ever struck it rich by pretending

He was looking for gold.

Moderator’s comments: I can dig this, but what about all those poor fools who never pretended a spade was not a spade? 

The Toad in the Word Garden

Wherein we are transported 26 years back in time to read a review of some books of poetry and in the process come upon Miss Marianne Moore weeding out the image of a toad—together with a host of other likewise lively conceits—as welcome additions to her magical word garden, but I’m with Pinsky and a slew of other poets and critics who think Miss Moore should have left the toad in the poem. But then again, perhaps she was afraid of coming down with warts.

Stumped, Like You

You say you can’t

See the forest for the trees?

It’s clear-cut

As old growth timber,

You dumbass fool—

All them blockheads done

Fucked up the view.

Memorial Service Mantra

Towards the end and at the appointed hour, the priest chants

Methodically and we repeat it mechanically

May the remembrance

Of the dearly 
Departed live forever—

As if we needed any reminding to remind us

Just how dearly departed forever becomes.

Gotta Match?

Issued in 1992, an 18 x 25 cm set of eighteen matchboxes illustrating the fables of Ivan Krylov bought at the Kopanaki open-air market some years back from Pontic Greek immigrants from the former USSR. Yours truly being a pushover for fairy tales and fables, how could I not buy this exquisite little item once I saw it among all the other paraphernalia this family had brought with them to Greece?

 
Fables included are The Broom, The Cat and the Cook, The Cock and the Pearl, The Cuckoo and the Cock, The Dragonfly and the Ant, The Eagle and the Mole, The Elephant and the Pug, The Fox and the Grapes, The Industrious Bear, The Lion and the Fox, The Mirror and the Monkey, The Monkey and the Spectacles, The Quartet, The Raven and the Fox, The Swan, the Pike and the Crayfish, The Swine under the Oak, The Two Dogs, The Wolf and the Stork.
 
 
 

Inscape

Large windows

To let the light in,

No small wonder

We have to see.