Saturday, October 31, 2020

Mistaken Presumption

The poem does not ask to be 
Taken for granted simply because 
You think you’ve put it down so 
Rightly in black and white— 
It wants to know if you will 
Ever learn to tell the difference 
Between that which is before you 
And that lying between the lines 
Left in pieces behind you.


Wednesday, October 28, 2020

A Poem Should Be (21)

Fiercely and mercifully just—
As balm is to a wounded heart,
And bane to an incurably sick one.



Sunday, October 25, 2020

Over The Moon Darkly

On nights
Without a moon, I fear
The sight of the heavens fills me 
To surfeit. 

Thursday, October 22, 2020

Huuklyeand Cinquor's "Full Medal Jackoffs"

Duty calls the poets 
To the front whenever hard- 
Line rabble-rousers appear— 
Dishonor awaits 
Those that dawdle, 
Displaying their pussy- 
Whipped corpuses to the other 
Pussies in the rear. 
Moderator’s comments: My beret goes off to il miglio fabbro* Huuk for this long-overdue devastating little bombshell of a poem aimed straight at the wishy-washy, nay, empurpled hearts of so many of my fellow poets who choose to sit out conflicts of conscience astride barbed wire fences—and to whom I can only say—have a goddamn heart, you blasted cockscombs, you’re getting too near! 

Tuesday, October 20, 2020

Coming Down To Earth (After Seferis)

Always oppressive 
Seemingly never- 
Ending slate 
Of charcoal grey 
Sky, let us all 
Rise a little 
Higher each day so 
We can see it’s never 
A question of arriving 
Too late.

Saturday, October 17, 2020

Solid Solitary Projective Verse

Coming upon Cavafy’s 'Walls,"
One is struck not so much 
By its masterful construction— 
Each word firmly in its rightful place, 
As befits a master word mason—but how 
At the end of that brief monologue
On loss and involuntary solitude, 
If the reader has indeed attended 
To what is rightly taking place,
He finds himself right at home, 
Next to a singular silence 
He never dreamt was coming. 

Tuesday, October 13, 2020

Doublets (Les Misérables)

Such a waste always 
To never love to surfeit— 
Such a life wasted, 
To never know it.


Sunday, October 11, 2020

Libretto Of Suspended Animation


One stifling moment you are 

Here, the other else- 

Where, the persistent 


Question of why remains 

Hanging, ambivalent 

In the unmoving 


Liberating air. 






Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Empathetic Interior Landscape


Deep down 


In the terrified heart, 

Suffering festers and hides, 


And everybody wants it 

Ripped out and out 


Into the open without wounding 

The innocent beast 


Cowering inside. 



Monday, October 5, 2020

Real Heavy Stuff, This Gardening


Another morning out here well- 

Spent watching drunken bees staggering 


From one pollen-filled flower 

To the other while inside I bet 


You’re wondering again how it is 

I’m always stupefied from taking all this in 


In what might pass as a stupor 

Yet clearly mistaken 




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