Huuklyeand Cinquor On The Transmogrifying Disappearance Of Poetic Ambiguity

Hell, it’s when 
Whatever the well- 
Intentioned well- 
Versed poet writes 
Ends up going one way  
Only to end up never 
Coming out anywhere 
One way or the other. 


 Moderator’s comments: So nice to see you again after such a long hiatus, Huuk—when are you going back?

A Poem Should Be (20)

By all means metaphysical 
And metaphorical yes, 

We know but how 

Can it be when 
The poet is elsewhere? 

All Said In Just One Janus-faced Parting Shot

Know thyself, a part 
Of the old man said, right- 
Away upon which the other 
Part shot back with I know

Nothing apart from that 
I know one thing only 
And that is that 
I know nothing—

How’s that? 

Just Moving On After The Last Straw, Boss

You know
When harsh winds die

Down in Shantytown
For the umpteenth time,

It’s way past time
We gather up all

The orphaned good
Folks left behind.

Digesting Grotesque Humble Pie

Such avian crust! 
Who would’ve thought 

Those four-and-twenty 
Blackguarding black- 

Birds of a feather popping 
Their prominent peckers out 

Of that ravishing, 
Inimitable dish 

Set down before you would 
Soon be laughing 

Their heads off watching 
You eat legendary 

Crow after crow 
After crow 

Without—heavens to Betsy— 
Even once burping!

Memory Flash Feat

A faint blackish stick 

Figure falling through 
A landscape 

Of frosty grey- 
White fuzzy 

Matter that has opened 
Up right 

Under its feet 
And swallows

It whole. 

Not-so-intrepid Moon Stalkers On The Verge Of Rising To The Occasion

We knew the moon was close 
To going full 

Circle and was more 
Than ripe to show 

Its face above 
The steep dark 

Hulks 

Of the mountains 
Fringing our hollow, 

To spill its lunatic light 
And illuminate whatever 

It was that kept hiding it- 
Self in the recesses 

Even in broad daylight— 
Who knows? If only we could 

Rise a little higher, we might 
Catch a glimpse of it too, 

One of these nights.