Before We Were So Rudely Interrupted

Turn this 

Page or any other 

Like it to find 

Exactly what 

 

You’ve been 

Missing all these 

Many years; failing 

That, stay just 

 

Where you are— 

Someone just 

As lost as you will 

Turn up any minute— 

 

Now, where 

Were we? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Crying Out Loud, Poets, No More Killer Clichés

Holy Moses, pilgrims— 

Can’t you see 

 

No matter how 

Hard we try, 

 

There’s always one more just 

Around the bend, hiding 

 

In the bullrushes, burning 

To cry out 

 

Bloody murder 

In the name 

 

Of all those fellow travelers 

Soon to be 

 

Most foully dispatched. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Haiku: Ditched

Still you keep saying 

You’re in it for the long haul 

Here by the wayside.

 

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?