The Perfect Poem (After Heraclitus)

Mortal, 

It went the way it came, thusly 
Nothing shall be created 

The same. 

 

Twilight, Hombre

See? 

You left town before sundown, 
But it ain’t dawned on you yet. 

Unfolding Canvas

Violet-blue anemones in green field 
Of yellow-flowered clover— 

Set to take over, profusion of red 
Encroachers already bleeding through. 

Mnemosyne

I remember her saying 

As long as you ask for me, 
I’ll be here forever 
But I forgot to ask her 

How long ago that was. 

Polyphemus at the Ophthalmologist's

Doc, why are you showing me 
All these blasted fuzzy things?

In my mind’s eye, I see nothing 
But no man smitten to smithereens 

By his own blind issue.