Incestuous Matter

Maculate 

Monstrous 

 

Issue and what 

To make 

 

Of ancestors who had 

No conception 

 

Of what they were about 

To procreate. 

 

 

 

 

 

Incredulous Braggadocios

Just you wait and see— 

You won’t 

 

Believe your eyes 

And ears what with

 

Such a final blistering 

Salvo, I shall bluster 

 

My way through what’s left 

Of this dull spirit- 

 

Less life—while we’re at it though, 

Think you could 

 

Hold on a minute so I can 

Catch my breath and stay

 

Even with you?

 

 

 

Archilochos In The Vineyards Of Thasos At Harvest Time

[burgundy stains but]

 

when [ ? ] grapes [blush]

and [   ] [   ] [   ] full-

 

[bodied] half-

[

[

[

naked Bacchus-

 

[soaked] maidens know

[

[

[no?] shame, may the

 

[manuscript here barely legible]

 

[

[

[

[goddess] help [me?]

 

[   ] [   ] [   ] [   ] I too

[

[

[

lust [   ] [   ] [   ] just

 

[evidence of violent shredding]

 

//////////////////

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

//////////////////

 

[the] same

[

[

[

[

[

[

 

[series of large gaping holes]

 

OOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOO

 

Old Country Vignette, 1947

The big brother, next 

To the father, leaving 

The village for the new 

World, turning round, 

His arms outstretched, 

Crying out to the younger 

Standing motionless 

Next to the mother: Baby, 

Baby brother, why 

Won’t you fit into my pocket?

 

Take it Or Leave It

There is only one 

Reason one should 

 

Write poetry— 

One needs to.