Sunday, February 3, 2013

Old Poem #3

when all else fails

back to the poetry for me
sounds associated freely
images arranged randomly
strange though they appear to be
the words occur deceptively

though another childish rhyme
is hardly the best use of my time

it cannot be denied by anyone

that there are the ghosts of cats
trapped in these walls

& it is cooler in the mountains
where the vines give forth their grapes
than in this structure made of clay
taken from the very same land

& where the beam meets the lintel
the claw marks can be seen

but worse fates are known to man
than that of a raisin in the sun

the spoiled kitten claws to get out
only to be jealous of the one that snuck in

the clock is broken & the frame is cracked
but the cards are shuffled & the deck is stacked

this house is almost ready to collapse
so we can bury our secrets & burn our old maps

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