Poetry, Posts, Musings
three syllables plus three syllables something like glorious rhapsody the first luscious suffix rounder than “us” soaring [but not us, not glorious] the sharp soft percussive of second prefix rap, between slap and tap [but not that music, that sound] and the last two syllables singing again lilting and lifting do re me so-di the … Continue reading
Ice forms on the inside window; furnace exhaust fleeces frost under soffits, warms the branches for sparrows and chickadees whose metabolisms have adapted to survive the frigid cold. Santa Cruz would be nice this time of year, when joints cease up like river ice, knotted and creaking. Don’t worry, don’t worry the 3-D domino molecular … Continue reading
Thinking about Leonora Carrington’s work… and this strange relatively recent poem Wild Boy Digs a Hole wild boy digs a hole, lives in it. vole-eyed and fierce [radiation titillates the margin of burn area that gnaws her breasts.] he digs his way into the world. shacks of cardboard, old railway ties. they leave him alone. … Continue reading
Thanks to John Cunningham and CKUW for yesterday’s interview & reading. the link to the MP3 here..
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