Drunk Again

What can a poor lush do 

When pouring out his heart 

To the wine-dark sea 

But hold—steady as she goes— 

His foul breath in. 

Stroke of Genius

When the myopic philosophy prof asked her

What she thought she was doing 

Wasting her time 

Doodling during a pop quiz, I bet 

He never thought she’d shoot back 

With a bull’s eye can’t you see 

I’m thinking. 

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Biting the Bullet

Punk firebrand intellect with prophetic 

Corpus pregnant with bravado before firing 

Your virgin salvo into that illustrious 

But now defenseless body 

Of ancestors think twice 

And never after 

Drawing a blank. 

Moderator’s comments: Not having heard from Huuk for ages (so to speak), I thought he’d finally shot his wad. Just goes to show you shouldn’t count geezers out—not even after you think they’ve wheezed their pathetic last. 

Reflections, 1969/2011

When this photograph was taken 

Years ago, I did not know what 

The old woman was thinking— 

She was sitting before the low 

Wooden door of her house, 

Walking stick in hand, 

Eyes lowered, looking at the ground— 

I still don’t know what she was thinking. 

Save the Child

Between Two Bitter Moments

Between two bitter moments there’s no time even to breathe
between your face and your face
the tender form of a child takes shape and disappears.

—George Seferis, from Sketches for a Summer