Sunday, May 11

two more poems


ah, green-apple,

drain the rest of this
sweet white-bread, made bland
but not artificial

vanilla, egalitarian
(a general comfort)
a daily method

even now, fantasies
chilled by fear; naive
perception of perfection

ice crawls over the mirror: even
the moving earth changes its breath,

& rather or not

on a pearl:
'i have given up nothing
to nothing' -
ah green reptile
apple of eye


oh, should you come looking for me
follow me like a paper-trail,
(origami on the breeze)
a little silken tail, hailstorm of glitter,
petals falling from trees...

who can bear a day like this?
windows thrust open, wide,
filling the curtains and making them bloom.
i stretch in a square of sun projected on the room.

what would it mean to wait, like a statue stopped in time?
(like the marble mermaids in the museum garden,
who never cease to watch the lagoon)
oh, is it wrong of me to lie here needing you?

who can bear a day like this! a sweet wind,
the sound of a violin from an apartment window on my walk home.
most pleasures taunt me with artificiality,
probably concocted by some dreamer, alone.

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