Another Poet's Song

after Charles O. Hartman

trying (hard

to see a
round) a

corner (before
it's sung).

Jim Crack Crow Bar

Now

Let's me and you
Just talk, boy--

All this is is a heavy
Line of black

Iron forged into a wedge
At one end

Fitted with a crow-
Like claw that's proved

Well worth its mettle,
Darn useful for prying

And pulling out stubborn
Nails, too.

Garbage Cant Dance

GARBAGEGARBAGEGAR
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
garbagecantgarbagecant
CANTCANCANTCANCANT

Aurora
im. Robert Lax (1915-2000)

mystical

morning
donning

mystical
light,

mystical

ritual
unfolding

calling

mystic
mythical

flight.

The Fey Man in the Moon

With the cow mooing hey
Diddle-diddle,

He cradled his face to see the cat
Moon the fiddle,

While his dish ran away
With the spoon.

Efiniki and Eleni, Summer 1981

Efiniki
b. 3-27-81

her

breath's
in-

escapable
in

credible
evidence


(First published in The Southeastern Review: A Quarterly Journal of the Humanities in the Southeastern Mediterranean, V. 1, No. 2, 1990)

V as in Vestiges

Not that

The world's full
Of mystery,

But that its presence is
Inexplicable

Victory.