1922: Introducing Mr. T. S. E. Gibbous, Esq.

Ambivalent egg- 

Head way out there, suspended 

 

In your inner sanctum, why so 

Tilting brightly? One might wonder, 

 

Somewhat nonsensically, of course, 

You might be reflecting 

 

On the light that’s not 

Yours to begin with, and how 

 

Your bang-up saga might end— 

Sunny side up or scrambled 

 

With heady green cheese and deviled 

Portions of furtive darkling whimpers soon 

 

To be wasting away in a mooning 

Sea of sublimated tranquility.

 

 

 

Stetson, Il Miglior Fabricator

Easy does it, 

My discerning amigo— 

Don’t you dare think that 

 

Once you get the hang of it, 

You’re free to stick another feather 

In your hat and straightaway

 

Hang it up—methinks you must 

First learn the difference between 

A fedora and a terza rima, 

 

What make you of that?

 

A Poem Should Be (20)

By all means metaphysical 
And metaphorical yes, 

We know but how 

Can it be when 
The poet is elsewhere? 

Closing In On The Poet's Elusive Objective Correlative

Moving deep 
Cross the depths 
Of your medium 

Like a crustacean, never 
Go straight to where- 
Ever it is 

You are heading—be 
It forwards or 
Back—being oblique in 

Your every movement, 
Take in as much as you can 
While doing so—this 

Will get you there sooner 
Or later, your pincers at last in 
Position to strike side- 

Long straight at the heart 
Of the scuttling always
Suspect subject matter, 

Leaving you free 
To break through 
To the untroubled

Surface for air. 

Building for the Future: One Less Vacant Lot

At this point, I don’t know 

What is more edifying—looking 

At photos of the World Trade Center 

Before and after 9/11 or reading 

Eliot’s Wasteland for the nth time— 

Any way you look at it, 

It looks like we’re long past 

The point of no return 

On our investment.