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
No comments:
Post a Comment